


The Becoming

by Haunted_Obsidian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Anorexia, Anorexic Dean Winchester, Bulimia, Bulimic Dean Winchester, But not the typical one, Cas likes to carry Dean, Dean Winchester Works in a Bookstore, Disordered Eating, Drunk Castiel (Supernatural), Drunk Dean Winchester, Eating Disorders, F/F, Glasses-Wearing Dean Winchester, Hoodie-Wearing Dean Winchester, Insecure Dean Winchester, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Navy Castiel (Supernatural), Nerd Dean Winchester, Oblivious Castiel (Supernatural), Sick Dean Winchester, Size Difference, Size Kink, Skinny Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Unhealthy Relationships, Whiskey and Dean Winchester do not mix well, buff Castiel, kind of dark Cas, some smut, weight loss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2019-12-07 04:15:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18229763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunted_Obsidian/pseuds/Haunted_Obsidian
Summary: After being gone for a three week naval training exercise, Cas comes home to find that Dean has lost weight after having been sick. It stirs something in him that he didn't realize was there.





	1. Bass Shivering Bass

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so for starters, please head all warnings and join me on my one way trip to hell. After having read numerous prompts on Tumblr, I came across one close to this and it just wouldn't leave my brain alone. I also haven't written in awhile, and wanted to do something that was a bit out of my comfort zone so there's that as well. Also, my naval knowledge is solely based on having a relative in the navy and the few conversations we've had about it.

**Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass**

 

Cas sighed as he entered their home, thankful that after his three week training course in San Diego, he was finally back. He was ten years into his naval career, and had just made chief. The promotion gave him a decent pay raise, but he hated being away from Dean for so long. They’d managed to call and text each other when they could, but his training took up most of his time and it didn’t help that Dean was working overtime at the bookstore either. 

He sat his bags down by the front door, telling himself that he would pick them up later but Dean would more than likely beat him to the punch. His husband lived by a standard of cleanliness that surpassed even his own, and that was saying something.

“Dean!” he called out, leaving the living room and walking into the kitchen. “I’m home!” He glanced around, but there was still no Dean in sight. He opened the fridge and his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw that it was almost empty. There were a few half full bottles of condiments and a couple of lonely beers. He snagged one and closed the door, twisting off the top as he checked outside, an empty deck looking back at him.

He backtracked through the living room and made his way upstairs, light shining from underneath the closed bathroom door. Just as he was about to reach for the knob, the door opened, a fully dressed, glasses-clad Dean staring back at him in surprise. Before he could even say a word, Dean’s look of surprise immediately turned into one of happiness, “Cas!” springing forth from his lips and his eyes lit up behind the black rimmed glasses. Cas quickly found himself engulfed in Dean’s arms, a hand cupping the back of his head. 

Cas felt a grin ease across his lips and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, lifting him up a few inches off the floor. His brow narrowed when he realized it was slightly easier than it had been in the past. 

_Had Dean lost weight?_ , he wondered. 

“I missed you,” Dean murmured in his ear, breath tickling it ever so lightly and that’s when Cas realized it sounded deeper and more nasally than it usually did.

“Are you sick?” he asked automatically, pulling away from his significant other and giving him a once over.

“ _I missed you too, Dean_ ,” Dean retorted to himself, doing his best Cas impression. 

“You’re definitely sick,” Cas stated, now seeing the dark circles and chapped skin underneath Dean’s nose indicating he’d been blowing it a lot lately. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Dean reiterated, though he made no move to seal Cas’s return with a kiss. 

Cas quirked an eyebrow at that, the action forcing Dean to roll his eyes. “Okay, I’m almost fine. The worst of it has already passed.”

“So you say,” Cas murmured, giving him another once over. His gaze drifted to Dean’s waist, and how the t-shirt he was wearing wasn’t as tight as it used to be. Something stirred in Cas at that, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He instantly hated himself for thinking that Dean looked better somehow, though he’d never admit it. 

God, just thinking that was so _wrong_.

“So how was San Diego?” Dean’s voice cut through his thoughts. “I would’ve picked you up, but I thought you weren’t due back until later.”

“Um, very informational, and an early flight opened up, so I took it. Didn’t wanna be away from you any longer,” he grinned, wrapping his arms back around Dean’s waist. He started to kiss his neck which earned a low laugh from the taller man. 

“Okay, now I can tell that you missed me,” Dean quipped, letting Cas gently back him into the wall. 

Dean moaned as Cas slid his hand under his shirt, nails teasing his smooth skin. “God, I missed you,” he mumbled, running his hand through Cas’s hair. “Dammit,” he cursed as his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, the ring tone signaling that it was Jody, his boss from the bookstore. 

“Ignore it,” Cas ordered in between kisses and the masterful things he was doing with his tongue. 

Dean whined low in his throat in response, but answered anyway.

“Yes, ma’am,” he greeted, the last word lasting longer than it should have as Cas pinched a nipple.

Cas could hear the other voice on the digital line saying, “Dean, I know it’s your day off, but Claire and Jack both called off and I could really, really use your help…” He knew there was no way Dean could say no to the woman, so he eased off of his husband, giving him his best “it’s alright” face as Dean looked apologetically back at him.

“I’ll be there in twenty, Ms. Mills,” he replied, and Cas laughed lowly when he heard the woman remind him that her name was “Jody, _Dean_. I’m not _that_ old.” 

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you soon,” he said, and hung up. “I’m so sorry, Ca-“

“Dean, you don’t have to apologize, it’s okay. I know how important it is to you. We’ll catch up when you get back,” Cas said and took his hand, lifting it up to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on it.

“You make it so hard to leave when you do stuff like that, you know that, right?” Dean asked, a hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

“I try,” Cas smirked and released him. “Go,” he sighed playfully, “Before I’m unable to control myself.”

“I’ll try to get out as early as I can,” Dean promised with a wink, and headed down the stairs. Cas followed, biting his bottom lip as his gaze landed on his husband’s ass. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to pick Dean back up and take him straight into their bedroom. He let out a breath as they reached the bottom of the stairs, trying to snap out of it as Dean removed his hoodie from the coat hanger by the front door and slipped it on. “See you later,” he said as he opened the door. 

Sick be damned, Cas leaned in and kissed him anyway, laughing when Dean whined his name.

“Bye,” the darker haired man said with a grin, and Dean rolled his eyes but returned the gesture before opening the door and heading down their front steps. 

Cas watched him as he got in the Impala and backed out of the driveway, disappearing down the street. Cas shut the door and sighed. An internal battle began to wage within him as he thought about Dean’s weight loss.

Ever since they’d been together, Dean had always been heavier than him. Not by much, roughly fifteen to twenty pounds or so, he also being an inch and a half taller.

Cas hadn’t even really thought about it until now, but it nagged at him. 

Dean had always looked good, but now he looked even better and Cas couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like if he lost a little more.

An immediate pang of guilt struck him square in the chest and he tried to push it down but even as he busied himself with cutting their lawn and other various chores, he couldn’t help imagine Dean being the smaller one in their relationship for once.

His phone ringing roused him from his fantasies, his co-worker and friend’s name popping up on the screen.

“Hey, Gadreel,” Cas greeted.

“Hey buddy, I heard you were due back today. A few of us were going to go out and grab a couple of beers down at Charlie’s. Care to come?,” the other man inquired. 

Cas glanced at his watch, seeing that he still had a couple of hours before Dean would be back. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Alright, see ya there,” Gadreel replied and hung up.

Never one to be late, Cas showed up exactly on time, a few of the guys already there at their usual table. “Sup, buddy?” Gad asked, handing him a beer as he sat down. “Glad to be back?”

“Yes, very,” Cas agreed with a nod and took a sip of the cold beer. “Anything exciting happen while I was gone?” he asked, glancing around the table. He’d been with Dean for eight years now, and the other man had helped tremendously with getting him to come out of his shell, and even though he’d worked with the men sitting at the table with him for the last three years, he still found himself wanting to go back to the way he was before; more quiet and observing than talkative and extraverted. He felt most comfortable around Dean, knew the man wouldn’t judge him as he feared most would. He knew deep down, they didn’t either but he still had a rough time of it every now and then.

“Does anything exciting ever happen in this town?” Gabriel quipped, sitting down at the table with a beer of his own. 

“Other than the time you tried to shoot that porno in your backyard, I’d say no,” Michael answered, the response causing a round of chuckles across the table.

“You guys are never going to let me live that down, are you?” Gabriel huffed, the question only earning more laughs from the other men.

“No, or the time you woke up naked on base and thought the lieutenant’s office was the head,” Gad said, barely able to contain his laughter.

“Oh, like none of you have ever wanted to piss all over his desk,” Gabriel griped, and took a swig of his beer. 

After the table quieted down, Cas spoke up. “So not much longer before you tie the knot, right?,” he asked, looking over at Gad. “Only two weeks left until you join the club?”

Gad let out a long breath as he pulled out his phone, receiving a text at that very moment from who Cas presumed was Gad’s soon to be wife, Anna. “Let’s just say, I’ll be glad when it’s over,” he said, taking a large gulp from his bottle and slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I love her but I’m positive wedding planning turns women into demonic beings, man. She wants everything to be perfect. I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”

“You’ll get through it,” Michael chimed in. “Hannah was the same way. Then the day came and went, and thankfully, she went back to being normal.”

“I don’t know. If I hear her complain one more time about the dress needed to be taken in again, or the flowers are the wrong color, I’m going to request to go to sea,” he joked, and finished off the beer. “How are things on your end?” he asked, glancing at Cas who was busy peeling the label off his bottle. 

“Good,” Cas said, mind still bothered by the thoughts he had earlier. “We’re both doing good,” he reaffirmed with a forced smile as he stood up. “Anyone else need a refill?” he asked, glancing around the table. 

“I’ll take one,” Gad replied. 

“Me too,” Gabriel agreed, tilting his head back and holding the empty bottle above his mouth, overemphasizing the fact that there was nothing left in it.

“Be right back,” Cas said, and made his way to up to the bar. He retrieved three beers, and returned back to the table. 

Cas wasn’t sure how many beers later it was before he realized he was drunk, buzzed-thirty having passed hours before. He had walked to the bar but was thankful for the offer for a ride home from Gad. They said their good-byes to the other men, and climbed into Gad’s black Silverado. 

They were both quiet, but after a few minutes, Gad spoke, breaking the silence.

“You okay, man? You usually don’t get this…”

“Drunk?” Cas finished with a tired grin and glazed eyes.

“Yeah,” Gad nodded, brow creased in worry. 

“Just have a lot on my mind, I suppose,” Cas stated, gazing out the window. 

“Like?” Gad tried. Cas was the king of keeping his thoughts to himself, and had no plans to relinquish his crown.

“Stuff?” Cas answered with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“As in?” Gad tried again, glancing over at the blue-eyed man.

Cas sighed, knowing there was no way he could tell who he considered one of his closet friends what was really on his mind. He wasn’t very good at lying, especially when drunk, so he forged the best lie that he could. 

“We probably only have a year or two at the most left before I’m reassigned somewhere else, and I guess I just feel bad. With us having to move every couple of years or so, I just feel bad for Dean.” That was most definitely not why he was drunk, although, the thought had crossed his mind before.

Gad’s expression eased in understanding. “That’s a part of the job, and I think with you two having made it this long, he understands.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Cas agreed, guilt hitting him as they pulled up to his house, the Impala sitting in the driveway. “Thanks for the ride,” he said as they came to a stop. 

“No problem. See you on Monday,” Gad said.

“See ya,” Cas replied and got out of the truck. Trying his best not to stumble, he made his way up the steps and fished his keys out of his pocket. He only dropped them twice before managing to finally unlock the door. Upon entry, he saw that Dean was sitting on the couch, the sounds of Dr. Sexy drifting from the TV. 

“Hey,” Cas greeted him, closing the door behind him and making his way over to the sofa. 

Dean stared at him quizzically for a moment before asking, “Are you drunk?”

Dean knew him far too well.

“Maybe,” Cas laughed lowly. The lack of light and the shadows from the television screen highlighted Dean’s cheekbones, and Cas could feel himself beginning to get hard. “And hot too,” he added as an afterthought, removing the black t-shirt he had on and tossed it to the hardwood floor. 

Dean’s eyebrows raised at that, a hint of grin hiking up the corners of his mouth.

“I _should_ be upset with you,” he started, Cas’s mouth on his neck temporarily cutting him off. “But I may be so inclined as to let you make it up to me,” he continued, hand sliding up through the back of his husband’s dark hair as Cas started to undo his jeans. Cas’s dick twitched as he saw that they were definitely looser than before and upon this new discovery, he found himself pushing Dean down onto his back and removing his jeans and boxers from their original position. Upon seeing the hip bones that were peaking up through his skin, Cas wrapped his hands around them and hungrily took Dean’s cock into his mouth as he sank to his knees. “My God, it’s good to have you back,” Dean murmured in between moans, and Cas took him all the way into his mouth. He loved the feeling of taking control, and it was more than obvious that Dean seemed to enjoy it as well judging that he was beginning to get louder and louder with each passing second. It wasn’t long before he was coming, and Cas swallowed him whole one last time before releasing him from his mouth. “Upstairs, now,” he ordered and Dean forced himself up onto his elbows, still a bit breathless from his orgasm. 

“Yes, chief,” he responded in a flirty tone, and before he knew it, Cas was pulling him up and damn near yanking the soft, gray _Led Zeppelin_ shirt off, ignoring Dean’s plea of, ”Be careful, that’s my favorite t-shirt, oh fuck it.” 

After several near trips on the stairs, they reached the top and Cas could help himself no more. He found himself in almost the same position as earlier that day and picked Dean up, a small yelp of surprise coming from the taller man. 

_“You should lose weight more often.”_

He felt Dean stiffen in his arms, and that’s when he realized his mistake.

He had said those words out loud.

_Fuck._


	2. The Looking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The disorder begins.
> 
> And there's a short trip down memory lane.

“Way to kill the mood, Cas,” Dean murmured lowly, backing out of his grasp. 

“Dean, I’m sorry. It was stupid and I’m drunk and you know how I get when I drink. It’s like my mouth just doesn’t stop moving,” Cas apologized, guilt clearly written across his visage. 

“Like now?” Dean asked, hurt in his tone. He finally managed to look up from the floor into Cas’s eyes.

“Yes,” his husband agreed. “Like now. I just — I noticed that you had, you know, and you just look so good, and I really am sorry, Dean. I just got caught up…” 

“So you like me better like this?” Dean asked, gesturing to himself, brow drawn in curiosity. 

Cas stared back at him, uncertainty written across his face. “This feels like a loaded question…”

“Just tell me the truth!” Dean snapped, voice beginning to raise. 

“Yes!” Cas shouted back, hating himself for the way he felt but not wanting to lie about it. 

“I see,” Dean mumbled, hands resting on his hips and Cas almost couldn’t take it. All he could do was stare at Dean’s waist, and how there was just a little less there than there used to be. “Why?”

“Why what?” Cas asked, confused, forcing himself to look back up into his husband’s eyes.

“Why do you like it?” Dean inquired, and Cas quirked an eyebrow. This wasn’t going spectacularly well by any means, but Dean was much calmer than he expected him to be. 

_Much_ calmer.

_Is he actually not going to hate me?”_ Cas couldn’t help but wonder. 

“I just…do…” Cas responded unsurely with a shrug of the shoulders.

“I’m gonna need a little more than that,” Dean countered, lips forming into a pout.

Cas sighed and ran a hand through his already unkempt hair. “I just like…the way it feels. We’ve been together for almost eight years now, and I finally feel like…”

“Like what?” Dean asked, expression still more inquisitive than angry. 

“I think it’s just easier if I show you,” Cas said, taking a step forward then pausing as though asking for Dean’s permission. 

“Show me then,” Dean challenged, brow raised still. 

Cas took a breath, then moved forward. He lifted Dean up again, just as he had before his traitorous mouth had betrayed him, and carried Dean into their bedroom. He carefully laid him down on the bed, pupils darkening at the site before him. “I just like that it’s easier to do things like that,” he explained, kicking one shoe off, then the other. 

“What else?” Dean questioned, not moving from his current position, eyes locked on Cas’s.

Cas bit his bottom lip and crawled onto the bed, straddling the other man. He gently ran his fingertips down Dean’s sides, his heartbeat quickening at the touch. “I like the way it feels too,” he whispered, and then leaned down, planting featherlight kisses down Dean’s stomach as he gently pulled down his boxer briefs and already unzipped pants and tossed them to the floor. When he heard no protests, he undid his belt and rid himself of his own remaining clothes, they joining Dean’s on the floor as his straining cock was finally freed. 

“I just want to take care of you,” he said, tone earnest, voice low as he leaned over Dean and removed the lube from the drawer of their nightstand. “Is that alright?” he asked, looking down at Dean as he squeezed the smooth substance onto his fingertips.

“Yes,” Dean nodded, slightly breathless, his own pupils blown in anticipation.

Cas let a small smile tug up the corners of his lips as he thoroughly coated his dick with the silky substance, then squeezed more out and ducked down, crashing his lips against Dean’s. Dean moaned into the kiss, and grabbed Cas’s shoulders as Cas ran his fingers down Dean’s own throbbing cock, over his balls, and then finally circling the tight ring of muscle to his entrance. He painstakingly teased him with one finger, pushing it in and out, in and out before adding a second, then a third. When he felt as though he’d efficiently tormented Dean long enough, he removed his fingers and grabbed an unused pillow; raising Dean’s hips up and sliding it underneath of him. Without a word, he settled on his knees and pulled Dean forward. He didn’t think it was possible to get any more turned on than he already was, but the delicious moan Dean let out as he pushed inside him sent him into a tailspin. He roughly gripped Dean by his hips, blood rushing to both his ears and dick as he slammed into him over and over, tilting Dean’s hips up just enough so that he was continuously hitting his prostate. It didn’t take long for either man to go over the edge, Cas trailing just a few seconds behind Dean. 

He carefully pulled out and slid off the bed, disappearing out of the room and returning a few minutes later with a warm, wet rag. “So…” he began as he gingerly cleaned them both off, gaze traveling between Dean’s eyes and stomach, careful to get every last bit of the white substance as Dean was not a fan of finding remnants of it on himself come morning. 

Dean sighed and took off his glasses, setting them on the nightstand in their usual spot. He removed the rag from Cas’s hand and tossed it on top of the pile of clothes that was lying on the floor, then got under the blanket and covers. He rolled onto his side, facing away from Cas. The action made Cas feel dejected until Dean reached up and gently grabbed his wrist, pulling Cas’s arm down until it was around his waist. Cas happily complied and slid under the covers behind him, thankful that Dean didn’t outwardly hate him at the moment. 

“If this is what you really want, then I’ll do it,” Dean stated.

“Dean, you know I love you, right?” Cas murmured into his ear, holding him impossibly close.

Dean scoffed tiredly. “I don’t think what just happened would have if you didn’t.” After a moment he added, “I love you too, Cas.”

It didn’t take long for either man to fall asleep, both content for the time being. 

*S*P*N*S*P*N

Dean’s alarm went off early the next morning, and after hitting snooze three times, he finally forced himself to get up. It was Saturday and he always opened at the bookstore on Saturdays. He let Cas sleep, quietly picking up the remnants of clothes from the previous night and depositing them into the hamper in the bathroom. He decided to take a quick shower to clear his head, unable to think about anything other than what had transpired the night before.

He and Cas had met when he was eighteen and Cas was twenty-two. 

Dean was waiting tables at a shitty restaurant in Wichita, trying desperately to make ends meet after getting kicked out of the house. His parents had found out that he was gay, and they had given him the boot without a second thought, leaving Dean scrambling to pick up the pieces of his life. That had meant going to school during the day, whilst waiting tables at a Chili’s knockoff in the evening and weekends just to make ends meet. Even then, most days he lived off of ramen and leftover food from the kitchen. 

He’d been having a pretty rough day, one ungrateful dickhead after another when he’d literally bumped directly into Cas, the food he’d just picked up crashing to the floor. He’d stood there for a moment, and before he could control himself, he’d started to cry. Cas being Cas had apologized profusely, his already guilty visage turning even guiltier (if that were at all possible). He’d even went so far as to put everything back onto the plates, making it look as though none of it had touched the worn and not so clean floor. The action had stopped Dean’s tears, even going so far as to make him smile, a gesture that had been more practiced with fake politeness than genuine at the time.

The young naval officer had stuck around that night until closing time, even though his assignment at the nearby air force base started the next day at oh six hundred hours. 

They’d walked to a tiny diner, neither having had a car at the time. They’d drank cup after cup of coffee, all the way up until two in the morning though both had early wake up calls the next day.

Cas had walked Dean home, and Dean knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was in love. Cas had stolen his heart in a single night with his quiet charm and warmth and corny jokes (the uniform hadn’t hurt either).

They’d meet up whenever they could, Cas spending most evenings at the restaurant when he had the chance. Sometimes he’d help Dean clean up, much to Dean’s chagrin. He’d pretended that it bothered him, but it hadn’t. Not really. 

Their first kiss had taken place three months after their initial meeting, and sparks had literally flown when their lips had touched, both pulling apart briefly to laugh at the static shock that had zapped them.

After Dean’s graduation, they’d gotten an apartment together. It wasn’t anything special, but it was theirs, and that was all that had mattered. Time was still a precious thing between them since Dean had decided to take classes at the local community college. He’d wanted to be a writer someday, or that was the plan at least.

Their relationship had reached a turning point when Cas had been reassigned to Goose Creek, South Carolina two years later. They’d both known that leaving Kansas was inevitable, and though his relationship with his parents was sour, Dean had still done his best to see his little brother when he could. One fight after another had almost taken them to their breaking point until one night, hours after yet another shouting match, Cas had cornered Dean in the kitchen. 

He’d looked worn and older than his twenty-five years, and Dean remembered the guilt that he’d felt for making him appear that way. Before he could even attempt to apologize, Cas had gotten down on one knee, a plain silver band appearing from his pocket and tears in his eyes. _”D-Dean, I’ve thought this through, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t do this. I love you more than anything in this life, and nothing else truly matters to me except for you. You’ve changed me in ways I never thought possible, and I-I…Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”_

It had taken Dean a full minute to respond, the lump in his throat impacting his ability to speak. 

_”Yes,”_ had tumbled from his lips without a second thought, and they’d hugged and made love that night until they’d both passed out in the wee hours of the morning.

Dean had went with him everywhere since then, even spending a year in Guam.

Cas made him happier than he’d ever been, and Dean wanted to make sure that Cas was just as happy as he was, if not more. 

He turned off the shower and dried off, waiting for the steam to clear before he put his glasses on. It was the only way he’d be able to see the numbers on the scale as his poor eyesight reduced everything to blurry blobs without them. Taking a deep breath, he stood upon the white mechanism, knowing that it had been years since he’d used it and afraid of the numbers he was about to see.

_187_

His eyes widened at that, wondering how much he had weighed before he’d gotten sick. He’d barely eaten the entire time Cas had been gone because he’d felt so shitty. He hadn’t wanted Cas to worry, so he was thankful that his husband hadn’t picked up on it in their few and far between conversations. 

“No wonder he wants me to lose weight…” he murmured to himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He’d definitely gained weight since they’d been together, at least fifteen pounds or so. He poked at his stomach, watching his finger sink into the flesh there. “How could I not have noticed this before?” he wondered aloud, pinching at what he believed to be a love handle. 

_No more pie for you, not for awhile anyway._

He suddenly felt uncomfortable standing there naked and hurriedly rushed out, dressing as quietly as he could in their bedroom. He kissed Cas on the forehead before he exited the room and went downstairs.

Usually, he made something for breakfast, but they were still low on groceries, and after his self-examination earlier, he decided that missing a few more meals wouldn’t be so bad. He chugged down a cup of black coffee, thankful he’d remembered to set the coffee maker the previous evening before Cas had gotten home. He forwent adding any cream or sugar, telling himself he liked it better that way but he was only lying to himself. 

Checking his watch, he saw that he had roughly thirty minutes before he had to be at _Mills & Hanscum’s Books and Things_. He did a quick calculation in his head and figured that he had just enough time to walk instead of drive if he left at that moment, so he promtply rinsed out his mug and set it in the dish rack to dry. 

He made his way out of the kitchen and past the living room, throwing on his hoodie as he went out the door. It was surprisingly chilly and he probably should’ve grabbed his jacket instead, but he was almost positive that he had read somewhere that the body burned more calories when it was cold, so he would be fine. 

_Gotta lose that gut somehow_ , he told himself, and jammed his hands into his pockets. 

He could do this, no, he _would_ do this.

For Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reviews and kudos! They are much appreciated. I'll try to update this story every week, and have another Destiel story in the works as well. Also, if you see any mistakes, please don't hesitate to let me know. ;)


	3. We Went For a Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking so long to get this out, but at least this version of the chapter feels right to me. Without further delay...

“We’re going to be late!” Cas called out, straightening his blue tie as he glanced in the full length mirror that graced their bedroom door. It was the day of Gadreel’s wedding and he was one of his groomsman. He was dressed in a gray suit, with a white button up shirt underneath and black dress shoes.

“Just…give me a minute!” Dean returned, sounding frustrated. He’d been holed up in the bathroom for almost thirty minutes and Cas was simultaneously worried and just a few more minutes shy of being irritated. 

“I’ve given you twenty! That should’ve been enough!” Cas replied, exiting the bedroom and heading towards the bathroom.

“I’ll be out in just a minute, dammit!” Dean shouted back, and Cas could take no more. Without permission, he opened the bathroom door, only to find Dean struggling to button his dress slacks. His face was red and as he glanced up at Cas, a wave of shame spread across his visage. “Maybe you should just go without me,” he muttered and folded his arms across his long-sleeved, royal blue dress shirt-clad chest. 

Cas sighed and walked over to him, turning Dean towards him by his shoulders. “You’re coming with me, and we’ll make this work,” Cas stated, reaching down to button Dean’s open trousers. “Deep breath in,” he ordered, but Dean wasn’t having it.

“I’m too fat for these pants!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’ve lost five pounds and I still can’t fit into these things!” 

Cas glanced down at the conveniently located tag that was by the zipper and paused. “Dean, these aren’t your pants. They’re a pair of my old dress ones from years ago.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding me! Fuck, I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t even realize…” Dean trailed off, frown set upon his lips.

“Hey,” Cas said, reaching out and taking Dean’s hands in his. “It’s going to be okay, alright? We’ll get you your pants, and head out. C’mon.” He carefully lead Dean back into their bedroom and slid open the closet door. He spread the hangers apart until he found the black slacks, carefully pressed and definitely Dean’s. “I don’t even think _I_ can fit into those anymore,” Cas confessed and handed Dean his pants. 

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed, slipping off his black dress shoes and the too small pants. “Whatever Captain Fitness,” Dean muttered and slipped on his actual trousers. Cas watched as he sucked in a breath, but he didn’t need to, they fastened up without a hitch and were even a little loose. 

“Better not forget this,” Cas said with a smirk, holding up a sleek, black belt. 

Dean stared at the leather material, confused for a moment before taking it from Cas’s hand and slipping it on. He sat down on the bed, and put his shoes back on, then quickly stood back up.

“Satisfied?” the darker-haired man asked, looking a bit smug now. “Because we need to get going or we’re seriously going to be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Dean grumbled and walked past Cas out of the room, and Cas’s gaze immediately dropped straight to his ass. “Don’t get any ideas. We’re going to be late, remember?” Dean sarcastically reminded him, trying to be coy but yelping the moment Cas’s teeth playfully bit one of his clothed cheeks. “You keep doing that and we’re seriously not going to make it,” Dean threatened, laughing as he went down the stairs, Cas close behind.

It was hard as hell for Cas to resist him because Dean looked ridiculously handsome in his outfit. It was a rarity for Cas to see him like that because the man usually dressed as casually as possible, always clad in a t-shirt and jeans with either a hoodie, henley or plaid shirt to boot. 

“Stop looking at me like that and let’s go,” Dean chided, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose and successfully breaking Cas from his thoughts.

“Yes, _dear_.” Cas hurriedly slipped his cell phone and wallet into his suit jacket and pants pockets, respectively, and grabbed his keys from the key rack. 

They took Cas’s jet black Jeep Wrangler, making it to the church with five minutes to spare.

Cas quickly exited the vehicle, heading over to Dean’s side and opening the door. 

“Are you trying to show off?” Dean asked as he got out, shooting him a questioning look.

“No, just trying to prove that chivalry isn’t dead,” Cas answered, glancing into Dean’s eyes before his gaze dropped to his leaner waist, then ass.

“Hey, eyes up here!” Dean warned, playfully swatting his arm. 

Cas laughed and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “You just look… _delicious_.” He’d whispered the last part into his husband’s ear, and grinned when Dean’s face turned the cutest mix of red and pink. 

They made their way into the crowded church, exchanging one more quick kiss before breaking apart — Dean going to his seat, and Cas to the wedding party. 

“Cas! You made it!” Gadreel greeted him with a half hug and a smile. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you worry. Just had a small clothing emergency,” he explained, gaze drifting back to Dean. He was seated in one of the middle rows at the end of the pew near the main isle. Cas could see him wringing his hands, a nervous trait that came out whenever he felt uncomfortable or out of place. The last time he’d seen him do it was when he attempted to see his parents last. 

The church bells began to ring, drawing his attention away from Dean to his surroundings. “Sounds like it’s time to take your place,” he said and gave Gadreel a reassuring smile. 

The taller man looked nervous but returned the gesture. “See you on the other side, brother,” he sighed, and made his way to the front of the church. 

Music began to play, and two by two, the bridesmaids and groomsman made their way down the isle. Cas reached out as he and one of Anna’s sisters passed Dean, gently touching his arm and sending a wink his way. The reaction from Dean was almost instantaneous — a barely noticeable smile crept across his face as his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly and he rested his hands on his knees, the nervousness slowly seeping away. They soon reached the end of the isle, Anna’s sister, Hael and he breaking apart and going to their respective sides of the isle. He stood next to Gabriel, Michael, and Gadreel’s brother, Ezekiel. 

Everyone’s eyes were on the main isle as _”Here Comes the Bride”_ began to play. Within a few seconds, Anna appeared, with a man who Cas was briefly introduced to the night before at the wedding rehearsal as Anna’s stepfather. They both had smiles on their faces as they made their way down the isle, and Cas had to admit, she looked beautiful, albeit on the scary side of thin. She had definitely lost weight since he had last seen her. 

The thought made his mind drift back to Dean, and how well he’d been progressing. 

Cas was sure that in the last five weeks, Dean had lost almost fifteen to twenty pounds. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like if he’d lost fifteen to twenty more. 

_Maybe even thirty…_

He forced himself to stop thinking about it, Gabriel’s voice in his ear his lone distraction. “Damn, she is looking _mighty_ fine today. Gad really got his hands on a looker, that’s for sure.”

“She does look beautiful,” Cas agreed, gaze straying to Dean. He couldn’t help but smile, admiration for the other man clearly present on his face, even if Dean was doing what he couldn’t —paying attention to the damned wedding.

“I wonder if I’ve got a chance with one of her sisters,” the shorter man whispered, and Cas rolled his eyes in return. “That cute brunette you walked with might do the trick.”

“Shut up and pay attention,” Cas replied, polite grin still plastered on his features but his voice completely contradictory to his expression. He wondered who he was speaking to more — himself or Gabriel. Either way, the other man stayed quiet for once. 

The ceremony was over rather quickly, the church erupting in applause once the priest announced, “You may now kiss the bride,” to Gadreel. Once the organ began to play, Anna and Gadreel made their way out of the church and into the limousine that was awaiting them. Soon the crowd began to filter out, and Cas made his way over to Dean.

“You okay?” Cas asked, resting his hand on the small of Dean’s back. 

“Yeah, just ready to get out of this outfit,” Dean replied, tugging on the shirt. 

Cas grinned. “I think arrangements can be made. After the reception, of course.”

Dean sighed in response. “Fine, let’s get this over with,” he complied, and leaned in the slightest bit closer to Cas as they exited the church. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and there’ll be an open bar,” Dean joked and Cas chuckled, opening the passenger door for Dean once they made it back to the jeep. “You sure are being sweet to me today. Any particular reason why?” Dean inquired once Cas was in the driver’s seat, curious expression set upon his features.

“I just know that this isn’t your crowd, and you hate formal gatherings so I figured I’d try to make it as painless as possible,” Cas replied, gently pulling Dean’s hand into his and planting a kiss on the back of it.

“You keep doing things like that and you are definitely getting laid tonight. Maybe even _twice_ ,” Dean quipped and Cas chuckled again and began to drive. 

A comfortable silence fell between them as they drove, the sun starting to set behind them. Twenty minutes and a couple of winding roads later, they pulled up in front of the reception hall. Cas parked the jeep in the crowded lot, once again opening the door for Dean as he exited the jeep. Dean playfully rolled his eyes, but grabbed ahold of Cas’s hand as they made their way into the hall. It was decently sized, fitting up to two hundred people give or take. There was a large table in the front, presumably for Gadreel and Anna and their families, with smaller tables situated in the back. A DJ booth was set up to the left of the bride and groom’s table, and there was enough room left between the main table and guest tables for a small dance floor. 

“Oh, thank God,” Dean’s voice snapped Cas from his thoughts. 

“What? Oh,” Cas shook his head and smiled when he saw that the bar was in deed open. 

“Be right back,” Dean stated, making a beeline towards the bartender. 

“Hey there, Cassie,” Gabriel greeted him, shoving a beer into his hands before Cas could refuse it. 

“Are you drunk already?” Cas asked incredulously, eyeing him up and down. 

“What?! No, not quite,” the shorted man replied with a grin, gulping down the contents from his bottle and trading a glass of what Cas presumed to be champagne from a waiter’s tray who was conveniently passing by. “I must say, Cassie, that your husband is also looking fairly exquisite tonight,” Gabriel added, gaze landing on Dean who was currently coming their way with two whiskey glasses in his hands. “Has he lost weight?”

“Always such the keen observer, aren’t you?” Cas quipped, finally taking a sip of the gifted beer. 

Gabriel _hmmed_ , raising his eyebrows as Dean approached them. “How’s it going, Deano?” the shorted man asked, looking him up and down.

“Really?” Cas gaped, brow raised in confusion. “You’re really going to do that _in front_ of me?” 

Dean couldn’t help but snicker at Cas’s reaction. “Nice to see you too, Gabe,” Dean replied, then swallowed down one of the glasses he was holding. 

“What?” Gabriel shrugged. “I’m an equal opportunity lender,” he said, and winked at Dean.

“Go,” Cas stated, voice gravelly and commanding as ever. 

“Fine, fine,” Gabriel muttered. “Nice seeing you again, Deano,” he said, and disappeared into the crowded hall. 

“I’ll never understand how that man hasn’t been dishonorably discharged yet,” Cas stated and emptied the contents of his bottle in one swift gulp. 

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I love it when you get all protective on me, but seriously, you have nothing to be concerned about when it comes to Gabe.”

“That may be the case, but he still knows how irritating he can be and does it anyway,” Cas responded, a scowl edging across his face. 

Dean couldn’t help but let a grin pull up the corners of his lips. “You’re adorable,” he said and leaned over, planting a light kiss on Cas’s lips. His hardened expression eased at that into a more neutral one, a hand slipping to the small of Dean’s back as he pulled away. 

“Are you hungry?” Cas asked, gaze drifting to the buffet style tables that were set up, filled with chicken, salads, and various sides. 

Dean’s brow lowered for a moment as if in thought, then shook his head. “I’m still full from breakfast earlier,” he replied, taking another sip of whiskey from the second glass. 

“Are you sure? That was hours ago,” Cas stated, giving him a once over.

Dean nodded in response. “Go, I’ll find out which table we’re supposed to be seated at.”

“Alright,” Cas complied, releasing Dean and heading towards the food. He was _starving_. He hadn’t told Dean, but he’d decided that since Dean was doing something for him, he’d return the favor. He’d incorporated more intense weight lifting into his daily workouts, and had been eating more as a result. He filled a plate, then returned to the seating area, searching the tables until he found Dean seated at one upfront. He sat down next to Dean, greeting Michael and Hannah who were also seated there. 

He dug into his food, listening as Hannah and Dean discussed a book that had recently been released.

“I thought that while the ending was sad, it was more true to life than if he had actually gotten a happy ending. Stories wrapped up in neat little bows are nice and practical from a financial standpoint, but who really gets that? No one leads a perfect life,” Dean countered and downed the rest of his glass. Cas tried his hardest not to stare at him, but it wasn’t easy when he spoke so passionately on a subject, especially when it came to Dean’s favorites — movies and books. 

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” Hannah stated pensively, taking a sip from her glass of water. “You do make a good point though. Now I think I’ll have to go back and reread it, see it from a different perspective, I suppose. Your husband’s quite the scholar,” she said, turning towards Cas and winking.

“Among other things,” Cas murmured in between bites, the comment making Dean’s face go red. 

“On that note, I’ll be right back,” Dean said, shaking his head at Cas as he got up, taking the empty glass with him. 

At that moment, the sound of a microphone being turned on caught his attention, the DJ’s voice quieting the crowd. “Just a quick announcement from the lovely couple of the evening.” The DJ was young, presumably in his early twenties, and dwarfed by Gadreel’s six foot two height.

“We just want to thank everyone for coming out,” Gadreel said, raising a glass towards the crowd. “Please stick around, eat, drink, and be prepared to watch me make a fool out of myself on the dance floor.”

“Love you, brother!” Gabriel shouted from somewhere in the hall, his eruption met with laughter. 

“Love you too, buddy,” Gadreel responded, and handed the microphone back to the DJ.

Soft music began to play as Dean sat back down at the table, glass filled almost to the brim with brown liquid. 

“You okay?” Cas whispered in Dean’s ear, concern marring his features. 

Dean shrugged, a drunken grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes pulling up the corners of his lips. “I’m right as rain, sweetheart,” he said, and took a rather large drink from his glass. 

Before Cas had a chance to respond, Gadreel and Anna appeared at their table. “Thank you guys again for coming,” Gadreel greeted, elated grin still plastered on his face.

“Anytime,” Cas returned and stood up, allowing himself to get bear hugged by the taller man. 

“It’s good to see you all again,” Anna chimed in, hugging Cas as Gadreel released him and went around the table, doing the same to everyone else.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Cas said, and she blushed at the compliment. 

“Aw, thank you, Castiel,” she gushed, and Cas didn’t miss Dean rolling his eyes behind her back. “I was worried they wouldn’t have the dress ready because I had to get it taken in because I lost so much weight. I never knew planning a wedding could be so stressful! At least you two didn’t have to worry about having to fit into a dress,” she joked, hand still lingering on Cas’s arm, much to Dean’s dismay.

“No, thankfully not,” Cas agreed with a nod and a polite smile. 

“Well, feel free to eat and drink,” she said, eyeing Dean quickly before continuing, “as much as you want.”

“Oh, _we_ will,” Dean affirmed, holding his glass up and downing its contents in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked in a low voice, lips close to Dean’s ear as Anna and Gadreel left to go visit another table. 

“What am I doing? _I’m_ enjoying the free alcohol, babe,” Dean replied with a wink and drunken grin. “What are you doing?”

“Dean…” Cas’s voice held a hint of warning to it, mixed with concern.

“Oh, come on, Cas!” Dean whisper shouted. “I’m having a good time, isn’t that what you wanted?”

“You’re not acting like yourself, and I’m worried. Is that so wrong?” Cas countered, blue eyes searching Dean’s greens. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Dean stated and got up, swaying a bit as he left the table and headed for the bar. 

Cas sighed, watching with worried eyes as Dean got another three-fingered refill of whiskey and returned to the table. 

“It’s time for the couple’s first dance,” the DJ announced enthusiastically as the music came to a halt. “If you would be so kind as to let them have the floor, then I’ll keep the tunes following after so everyone can join in.”

_Wonderful Tonight_ by Eric Clapton began to play on the speakers as Anna and Gadreel slow danced across the floor. The sight took Cas back to his and Dean’s wedding night. They didn’t have a large reception, just a small get together with a few close friends and siblings at their small apartment at the time. They’d danced to _You Are So Beautiful_ by Joe Cocker, and Cas couldn't help but get teary-eyed just thinking about it. He sniffled and gently laid his hand on Dean’s knee, drawing his attention. 

“Why don’t we go ahead and get out of here?” Cas suggested, nodding towards the door. 

Dean stared at him for a moment, a hint of something akin to anger edging his brow lower until his face softened and he nodded. 

“We’re gonna head out,” Cas whispered to Michael and Hannah. “It was nice to see you again,” he said to Hannah who smiled in response.

“You too. Have a safe drive home,” she whispered back, and gave them both a small wave. 

“See you at work on Monday,” Michael said and waved as well. 

Dean was silent and a bit unsteady as they left the hall, Cas immediately slipping his arm around his waist to keep him upright. No words were spoken between them until they were both settled back into the jeep and getting onto the highway. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Cas inquired, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road but focused on Dean at the same time.

“Talk about what?” Dean murmured, voice now small. His head was leaned against the window, arms hanging loosely at his sides. 

Cas sighed, trying not to get frustrated. It was easy though sometimes, with how stubborn Dean could be. “I fully expect Gabriel to make a fool out of himself at events, but not you. What was that between you and Anna?”

“I don’t like her,” Dean replied casually, keeping his gaze fixed on the passing road as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Why? Because she hugged me? Touched my arm?” Cas asked, voice raising a notch. 

“Maybe,” Dean shrugged nonchalantly, slouching further in his seat. 

“Help me to understand why you couldn’t walk out of there without assistance, Dean. I haven’t seen you drink that much since —“

“I just don’t like her, okay?” Dean cut him off. “So just drop it.”

“I don’t want to just drop it, Dean. I want to talk about it and try to understand what has you so upset so I can help,” Cas explained, trying not to get angry himself. Dean could be like a hurricane sometimes, letting his anger swirl around him until it consumed everything in his path; present company included.

“I think you missed your calling as a shrink,” Dean quipped, eyes glassy and a smirk on his lips.

“Dammit, Dean, does everything always have to be a joke with you? Is it really that hard to just tell me the truth once in awhile?” Cas gripped the steering wheel tight, sucking in a breath as he could feel the tension electrifying the air between them.

Silence fell between them momentarily before Dean’s drunken lips betrayed him, “She’s perfect, okay? And I’m not!” His voice broke on the last word, glassy eyes becoming more watery by the second. “I just…I just want to be good enough for you, you know?” He finally looked over at Cas at that moment, shame haunting his visage. “But I’m not,” he added with a shake of his head, biting his bottom lip so that it would stop quivering.

Any trace of anger that Cas was feeling vanished, the look on Dean’s face breaking his heart. He quickly pulled the jeep over to the shoulder of the road, and hit the emergency lights. “Dean,” he said, gently cupping his husband’s cheek. “You are good enough for me, you _are_ ,” he reiterated when Dean kept shaking his head. He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, pulling Dean into his arms and putting a calming hand on the back of his neck. “Dean, you are the single best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I love you more than you’ll ever know. Please don’t think for even a second that you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean muttered into his shoulder, and Cas could feel him gripping the sides of his suit. “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” Cas soothed, gently brushing his fingers against Dean’s smooth skin. “Just…if something is bothering you, talk to me, okay?”

Dean nodded and slowly pulled away, pushing his glasses up and swiping underneath his eyes to erase any evidence of his tears. 

Cas put the jeep back into gear and began to drive, reaching over after a few moments and placing his hand on top of Dean’s. Dean looked at him, eyes still more watery than not, and moved his palm upwards, intertwining their fingers together. 

“I just wanna make you happy, Cas,” he said, voice still on the quieter side. 

“You do make me happy,” the darker haired man reassured, squeezing his hand tighter. 

Dean smiled tiredly at him with half-lidded eyes as they continued down the highway, eyes slowly sliding shut the further they drove. “Gonna get smaller for you, Cas,” the drunken thoughts tumbled from his lips. “Gonna make you even happier…”

Cas glanced over at him as he passed out, uncertainty snaking over his shadowed features. He forced the feeling down along with the guilt that he knew should be clear and present, but wasn’t. 

Everything was going to be okay. 

Until it wasn’t.


	4. Can't Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope that it shows. Also, I just want to thank everyone for the kudos and comments as well. :)

_162 162 162_

The numbers repeated like a mantra in his head, over and over. 

Dean stared at the scale, making sure that he was reading it correctly. He stepped off of the black mechanism and pushed it back into the corner of the bathroom. 

He was two pounds from his goal weight, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that he could do better than that.

 _If you think you only need to lose two more, you should try seven…or better yet, twelve_ …

He stared at himself in the mirror, biting his bottom lip. Even though the scale had told him that he’d lost weight, he couldn’t see it. He lifted up his t-shirt and stared at his stomach, his lip curling in disgust. He hadn’t had any pie in almost five months (or hardly anything with sugar in it for that matter), but he could still see fat hanging over the waistband of his jeans that appeared at least two sizes too big now. They were baggy on him just like every other piece of clothing that he owned. 

His phone vibrating in his pocket broke him from his thoughts, and he hurriedly pulled the maroon colored _The Flash_ t-shirt back down and retrieved his cell. 

_**Hey boss, I’m going to be thirty minutes late today.** _

The text was from Claire, one of his fellow employees at the bookstore. He’d stepped in and had been managing the place while his actual bosses were away. Jody had been on medical leave for the past two months due to a broken leg suffered at the hands of her and Donna’s very own basement steps. Donna, on the other hand, had taken on the task of caring for her mother after she’d suffered a stroke two weeks after Jody’s accident. 

_**You know you have a scheduled work time for a reason**_ Dean texted back, fully accepting that she was going to be late, but still wanting to give her shit for it. Though she was eight years younger, they got along well for the most part. Both had their days, but they also shared some things in common, which had helped. 

_**And that’s why I’m letting you know that I won’t be able to work my scheduled time, old man.** _

He scoffed at the response, promptly typing back, _**I’m only 26!**_

All he received in reply was **…** , so he slipped the phone back into his pocket, and exited the bathroom. 

He sighed as he went into the bedroom to grab his shoes, taking note of the empty bed. He hadn’t seen Cas in almost three days due to there being emergency drills at the base, and he honestly wasn’t sure when he was going to be back home. They really hadn’t seen much of each ofter since Dean took over management duties at the bookstore, sharing the occasional dinner once or twice a week. They’d both been putting in long hours, and it had definitely taken its toll.

He quickly slipped on his boots, then went over to the closet and pulled out one of Cas’s old hoodies. It was black and had a small golden pair of angels wings adorning the top of both sleeves. He slipped it on and zipped it up, surprised that it fit with plenty of room. He couldn’t help but sniff the inside of it, it smelling like Cas even after not having been worn for a few years at least. Satisfied, he went downstairs and grabbed his keys and headphones, then went out the door, making sure to lock it behind him.

He plugged the headphones into his phone, then set off towards the bookstore. It usually took him about half an hour to get there on foot, so he made sure to leave with plenty of spare time, just in case. 

Fall was inevitably coming closer and closer, the chilly air making him reconsider wearing just the hoodie and t-shirt. The lack of sun didn’t help matters either, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked faster in hopes of heating himself up a bit. The wind was steady with a bite to it, but he continued on, beating his previous best time of twenty-four minutes by a minute and a half. It was a silly thing to be proud of, but he took the small victory nonetheless. 

_Mills & Hanscum’s Books and Things_ was situated near a busy shopping plaza, which helped bring in business, but it being 7:30 on a Saturday morning, everything was quiet, only a few cars in the nearby parking lot. 

Jack was standing in front of the store, pacing back and forth. The kid was brown haired and thin, and dressed in clothes his mother obviously bought for him. He was a sweet kid, and appeared nervous as Dean approached. 

“Hey, Jack, what’s up buddy? You’re not scheduled until three today. Everything alright?” Dean asked as he unlocked the front glass door. 

His anxious expression transformed into a guilty one as soon as they made eye contact. “Dean, I’m sorry for showing up so early. I-I —“ He paused, biting his bottom lip, his gaze slipping to the ground below. 

Dean stared at him patiently, opening the door and allowing him to go in first. Once they were both inside and Dean had locked the door behind him and pressed in the code to keep the alarm system from going off, Jack started to speak again. “I actually got invited to a party tonight, and was hoping to work early so I could go?” He said it as a question, and Dean couldn’t help but smile a little at the kid asking him for permission. He knew saying yes would mean that he would be stuck working a double shift, but he also knew that Jack had been working hard on his social skills and interacting with kids his own age. He’d been homeschooled all the way up until three months previous, and so that party would be a big step for him.

“I’m cool with that, but next time, call or text me, okay?” Dean chided lightly. 

“Yes, yes, thank you, Dean!” Jack said nodding, an excited grin spreading across his face. “And I’m sorry for not calling or texting. I forgot my phone here last night,” he said, retrieving it from the charger underneath the front register. 

“It’s alright,” Dean replied, wrapping his headphones up and shoving them into his pocket. “Since you’re here, mind hanging the sale signs up front?” 

“I’ll get right on it!” Jack responded eagerly, heading towards the backroom to get them.

Dean began setting up the main register, brow lowering when he heard someone knocking on the glass door. He looked up to find Jody standing there, looking slightly annoyed and balancing her weight on a cane. He quickly stopped what he was doing, and walked over to the door, unlocking it so she could come in. 

“Hey stranger, forgot my keys,” she said, greeting him with a smile and pulling him into a hug despite his hesitance. He returned the gesture though, humoring the shorter woman. 

“I thought you weren’t due back for another two weeks,” he said as he pulled away, not missing the concerned expression on her face, but doing his best to ignore it. 

“Well, I had a PT appointment, and just happened to be in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by and see how things were going. Can’t say I’m surprised, but definitely impressed,” she said, looking around the store. “You’re doing a great job keeping up the place, Dean,” and he immediately shied away from the compliment. 

“So how are you two doing? Is Donna’s mom doing any better?” he inquired, heading back towards the register and finishing getting it online. 

“Yes, thankfully, she’s actually up and walking just about as good as I am,” Jody replied, steadily following him. 

“That’s good to hear,” Dean said, glancing over at her as he straightened up things. 

“Jody!” Jack exclaimed as he came out of the backroom, a genuine grin lighting up his face. He set the large box that he was carrying down on the counter near Dean and gave her a hug. 

“Hey, Jack,” she greeted him, smiling in return. “How are you, kid?” she asked.

“I’m great!,” he answered truthfully. “I’m going to my first high school party tonight, so I came in early so I could go.”

“Oh, well that’s good. You’re not going to get into any trouble though, are you?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. 

The smile on Dean’s face grew the slightest bit as he listened to their interaction. Between Donna and Jody, Jody was definitely the more motherly of the two, and acted every bit the part. Neither had any kids of their own, but they more than made up for that with Jack, Claire, and even Dean. 

“No, ma’am,” Jack replied, serious expression now on his face. “I was told there were going to be lots of games, um, something called Seven Minutes in Heaven and Truth or Dare.”

Both Jody and Dean chuckled at his innocence, leading him to look between them and ask, “Have you two ever played them before?” eyes large and questioning.

“Every teenager that’s ever been to a party has,” Dean replied, taking out some of their membership card applications and setting them on the counter. 

“And here I thought every teenager just sat around and texted each other nowadays. Good to know some things haven’t changed,” Jody chimed in, patting Jack on the shoulder.

“Do you think I’ll be good at them?” he asked, still serious.

“Why don’t you worry about that later and get those signs hung up?” Dean gently prodded, shoving the box Jack’s way.

“Oh, right, sorry,” he immediately apologized with an embarrassed smile and hurriedly headed up towards the front of the store.

“So how have you been?” Jody inquired, a more neutral expression easing back onto her face as she stared at Dean.

“Things have been good,” he shrugged, continuously keeping himself busy and avoiding her questioning gaze.

“You’ve uh, you’ve lost weight,” she commented, and Dean could feel his eyes wanting to roll into the back of his skull. 

_Here comes the mothering_ he thought, and instantly felt sixteen again.

“I’m good,” he lied, forcing himself to look at her and the worry that was present in her eyes. “Really, Jody, I’m okay,” he tried to reassure her, but judging from the look on her face, he was failing miserably. 

“Things haven’t been too stressful because of running this place, have they? Because if they are, I can come back early. It’s not a problem,” she said, searching his tired visage.

He sighed and stepped out from behind the counter, placing his hands on both of her shoulders. “I promise, everything is fine. Take all the time you’ve need, okay? We’ve got this. Right, Jack?” he called out, and Jack gave them a thumbs up, the sign falling out of his other hand and to the floor. Jody’s eyebrow arched again, forcing Dean to repeat himself. “We’ve got this. Mostly,” he added, quirking his lips up into a half smile.

“You’re sure? I know Donna wouldn’t mind —“

“You’re going to miss your appointment, and you know how Donna gets when you put things off,” he stated, earning an eye roll from the smaller woman. 

“Please don’t remind me,” she muttered, turning around and heading for the exit. Dean followed her, almost bumping into her when she hesitated at the door. “If things do get too hectic —“

“I’ll call you,” he finished, letting out a breath as he opened the door for her. “Scout’s honor,” he reiterated, holding up three fingers.

“Take care of yourself, Dean,” she said as she stepped outside. 

“You too,” he replied. “You want me to help you to your car?” he asked.

“I’m injured, not elderly,” she huffed back, and he laughed at her retort. “Take it easy, Jody,” he said with a wave, and waited there until she was safely in her car. He let the door close behind him as he went back inside, not bothering to lock it since they would be opening in a few minutes. 

“She’s right, you know,” Jack’s voice cut through the quietness of the shop. 

“About what?” Dean asked absentmindedly as he walked back to the storage room, Jack following close behind with his now empty box. 

“You have lost weight. Are you sick again?” he inquired, tilting his head to the side and staring at Dean as the taller man grabbed a few boxes and set them on a portable cart. 

“No, and I need you to set these up on the table near the door,” Dean instructed, adding one last box to the cart before pushing it towards Jack and exiting the storage room. 

“Then why?” Jack continued, pushing the cart out of the room and once again following Dean. 

The bells above the door chimed, Dean ever thankful that Claire had finally decided to show up and used her tartiness to ignore Jack and scold her instead. 

“Well, look what the mascara-running cat dragged in,” he admonished and she glared at him. “Late night?” he asked smugly, and she rolled her blue eyes. 

“I told you I was going to be late. If you can’t tell time, that’s your problem, not mine,” she answered, shrugging off her jacket and setting it behind the counter. 

“Why don’t you go get the coffee ready, and we’ll call it even,” he offered, and she sighed loudly, putting her long blonde hair into rough pony tail.

“Fine, whatever,” she answered, and headed to the small kitchenette that was next to the stock room, portable coffee carafe in hand. 

“Don’t forget the cups!” he reminded her, and laughed when he heard her over exaggerated scoff.

“I don’t forget things because I’m not an old man!” she shot back, and Dean shook his head. 

“You’re gonna be my age one day, you know!” he shouted back as he turned the closed sign over to open on the front door. 

“And you’ll still be an old man,” she said with a smirk, returning to the main room with a stack of styrofoam cups in her hand. 

“If I’m such an old man, then why do I have to constantly remind you to wear your name badge?” Dean returned, setting it on the table in front of her then folding his arms across his chest and raising an eyebrow. 

She narrowed her eyes at him as she clipped the badge to her shirt, witty retort on the tip of her tongue. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, pointing a finger at her as the bells chimed again. “Welcome to —,” he cut himself off when he saw that it was one of their regular customers. “Hey, Garth, here for your special order?” 

“Hello, Dean!” The tall, rail thin man greeted him with a toothy grin and a wave. “And I most certainly am. You guys are the only bookstore in town that actually does special orders. Did you know that?”

Dean let a small smile tug up the corners of his lips as he nodded, and went behind the counter. “We always aim to please,” he stated, and dug through a few piles of books wrapped in rubber bands and post-it notes. “Here we go,” he said, and stood back up, albeit a little too fast. Black spots marked his vision and dizziness made his world tilt momentarily. He gripped the counter to steady his balance, hoping desperately that the small spell went unnoticed.

“Whoa, you okay there, buddy?” Garth asked, placing a light hand on his shoulder, brow lowered in concern.

Dean swallowed thickly and nodded. “Just stood up a little too fast is all,” he stated with a forced, polite smile, and set the books down on the counter. He pointedly ignored the shared look between Claire and Jack behind Garth. 

“Did you eat breakfast this morning? If not, I think I may have a granola bar on me,” Garth murmured, checking the pockets of his jacket.

“I’m fine, Garth, really,” Dean answered, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. 

“Are you sure? You’re looking kind of —“ 

Dean cut him off, trying his best not be annoyed but he was fairly positive the emotion was starting to bleed onto his face. “Do you have your membership card? Pretty sure you’ve earned a free book.”

“Oh, why as a matter of fact,” Garth said, pulling his wallet out, “I do. Thanks for reminding me.” He handed the card to Dean which the other man took gratefully, thankful that the other man could be so easily distracted. His two employees, however, could not. He looked between them as Garth rambled on and on about the German werewolf books he was picking up that morning; they were glancing at Dean while keeping their voices low and he was sure there was going to be an ambush sooner or later. 

“Oh, thank God,” Dean mumbled as two other customers came through the door. If they stayed busy enough, he wouldn’t have to hear their teenage mouths ask too many questions or make oblivious comments about things they knew nothing about. Although, he honestly couldn’t remember when the last time he ate was…

“I can’t wait to find out what happens to Fitz and Hannah! I bet it’s gonna be a treat!” Garth continued on cheerfully, and Dean just nodded distractedly, not having heard a word the other man had said. “Well, thank you again, I’ve got to get off to work, but I’ll dig into these as soon as I get home. Thanks again, Dean, and please tell Jody I said to feel better soon!”

“Will do,” Dean agreed with another nod and polite smile. “Have a good one, Garth.” 

Business did indeed start to pick up, and before Dean knew it, it was already noon. The shop finally quieted down a bit, and he was thankful that he had told Claire and Jack to both go on lunch fifteen minutes previous, leaving him to his own devices for a bit. He refilled the coffee and even grabbed himself a cup. The warm liquid eased down his throat and he gulped it down, not realizing how thirsty he actually was. He poured himself a refill, before heading back to the stock room to grab a few boxes of comics for Jack and Claire to put out when they got back. While he was back there, he heard the bells ring and called out, “Be out in a minute!”

“It’s just us!” Claire shouted back. He heard their hushed tones coming closer so he stepped out of the room.

“You two are back —“ 

“Here,” Claire interrupted, slamming a prepackaged sandwich into his chest.

He blinked dumbly for a moment, then looked between them. “What’s this?” he asked, brow lowered in confusion.

Claire automatically rolled her eyes in irritation. “Lunch. You know, that meal that comes in between breakfast and dinner?” 

“Claire thought that it would be a good idea for us to eat together, like we used to,” Jack added, eyes bright and small smile on his lips.

It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “While I appreciate the sentiment —“

“There’s no room to argue here,” Claire stated, and pulled him by the arm into the small kitchenette area, shoving him in the direction of the round, wooded table with three chairs placed around it. She retrieved three sodas from the mini fridge and set them down on said table, then sat down herself. Jack sat down as well, smiling up at Dean as he popped the tab on his soda and took a sip. They each had sandwiches of their own, and began to eat.

“Sit down,” Claire instructed as she pulled out her phone and took a bite of her sandwich, not even bothering to look up at him as she did so. 

Dean’s stomach growled loudly in response, and he could feel his face redden as they both glanced up at him. He shook his head but reluctantly took a seat. He pealed open the plastic that was encasing the turkey and swiss, hands shaking ever so slightly. He stubbornly took a bite and chewed, annoyed gaze finally landing on Jack who was now staring at him expectantly. “What?” he asked and reluctantly swallowed the food.

“Nothing,” Jack said with a shake of his head, and took another sip of his grape soda. 

“Then why are you staring at me?” Dean asked, pout starting to form on his lips. 

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Claire promptly elbowed him in his ribs. “What did you do that for?” Jack asked indignantly, rubbing his side.

“He’s just going to lie anyway, so you shouldn’t bother to ask,” Claire mumbled under her breath, though it was loud enough for Dean to hear.

“Lie about what?” Dean asked, looking between the two of them. 

“Lie about how you’re fine even though you’re really not,” she replied, and took an exaggerated bite out of her sandwich, making sure to crunch the only piece of lettuce on it as loudly as she could all the while smiling what Dean could solely describe as a smart ass smile.

Dean chuckled and sat down his sandwich. “Are you really going to psychoanalyze me like that?” he asked incredulously. 

“Actually —“ she began, but Jack cut her off.

“We just want to make sure that you’re okay. You’ve been acting…different lately,” Jack stated, nodding to himself as he found the right words.

“Different, huh? Different how?” Dean inquired curiously, eyes narrowing as he titled his head to the side.

“Well,” Jack started to explain, but Claire finished for him.

“Like a robot. You cover for both of us, working ridiculous hours even though you should’ve just went and hired someone else by now, but you just want to be all macho and do it all by yourself, and you never complain!” she said, voice raising at the last sentence. “Like, who does that?” she asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “No one! Nobody does that,” she answered herself, shaking her head and staring him straight in the eyes. 

Dean met her gaze, keeping quiet for the moment. He wanted to throw his own building frustration right back at her, but he could see the worry in her eyes, even if she’d never admit to it. He glanced at Jack, seeing the same in his and sighed. “Look, Jody will be back in two weeks. Until then, I think I can manage, and excuse me for not complaining enough, but when you finally become an adult, you’ll understand,” he said with a finite tone. The front door bells jingled and he went to stand, but Claire beat him to the punch and shoved him back down to the chair. 

“I’ll handle it. You finish that. _Boss_ ,” she added, throwing on the fake smile again and exiting the room. 

“Ok-ay,” Dean mumbled, and picked the sandwich back up. He glanced at Jack who once again had that expectant look on his face, and took another bite, hoping that eating at least half of it would appease the kid. “Maybe Jody should have left her in charge,” he joked, and Jack’s eyes grew big. 

“No, I don’t think that would’ve been a good decision,” Jack said, tone nothing but serious. “She’s—“

“Jack, it was a joke,” Dean explained with a small smile.

“Oh! Right, of course it was. Because Jody would definitely never do anything like that,” Jack reaffirmed, shaking his head. He finished the rest of his ham and cheese sandwich, then gulped down the rest of his soda. “Aren’t you going to finish yours?” he inquired innocently as Dean pushed away from the table and stood up, leaving the other half of his sandwich on it. 

“Um, yeah, I’m going to save it for later,” he lied, and wrapped it back up as carefully as he could before he placed it into the mini fridge. 

“Are you sure…are you sure you’re okay?” Jack asked carefully, coming to stand as well, but there was a hesitance to his movements that Dean immediately detected. 

His mouth managed to filter out the rude comment that his brain had come up with. Instead, he opted for a simple nod and tight smile. “I’m fine, Jack. I promise.” He patted the kid’s shoulder for extra emphasis, and although Jack didn’t look entirely convinced, he seemed to accept Dean’s answer. “I’ve got a few boxes of comics that I need you to put out before you leave, okay?”

“Sure,” Jack nodded and followed Dean out of the room and into the stock room. Dean handed him a box, then took one himself and carried it out and back into the main room. He’d managed to convince Jody and Donna to start carrying them not too long after he had started there, and though they were hesitant at first, they wound up drawing more business and created an entire section just for them. They even celebrated free comic book day and Batman day, two things that Dean couldn’t help but be proud of. “Do you think I’ll do okay?” Jack’s voice cut through his thoughts, and his head immediately jerked up.

“What?” Dean asked, feeling a little guilty for having tuned the teenager out.

“Do you think I’ll do okay?” Jack repeated. “Tonight?”

“Well, first thing’s first — have you ever kissed anyone before?” Dean asked, taking his pocket knife out and opening the boxes. 

“Well….no, but my friend Max told me that I should practice on my hand so I’ve been trying that, but I don’t think it’s the same,” the teenager replied, stocking the crisp, new comics two at a time. 

“And that’s because it’s not,” Dean confirmed in a matter of fact tone, sliding the books into their respective slots. “The only piece of advice I can really give you is, don’t just slam your tongue down whoever’s throat you’ll be playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with, okay? Cause that will only turn out one way, and that’s badly.”

“Got it,” Jack said with an appreciative nod. “Wait, that’s what Seven Minutes in Heaven is?” he asked in disbelief, almost dropping the _Wonder Woman_ comic he was stocking onto the floor. 

Dean laughed lowly and shook his head. “I’m afraid so.” 

“Dean, I don’t think I’m prepared for this,” Jack stated, and appeared suddenly stricken. “What if my mouth freezes or my jaw gets locked up? Or —“

“Calm down, kid. You’ll do just fine,” Dean said, trying to put the younger man’s mind at ease. “You going to this party too?” Dean inquired when Claire walked up and began to help them.

She laughed in response and shook her head. “Um, no.”

“Is that right? Must have a hot date with…what’s her name…” Dean’s voice trailed off, pretending to be unable to remember Claire’s girlfriend’s name.

“K-a-i-a,” Claire said, speaking slowly and condescendingly as though Dean were the village idiot. “Her name is Kaia, and as a matter of fact, yes, I do.” 

“So how serious is it?” Dean continued, trying his hardest not to smile at the irritation that forced a scowl onto Claire’s youthful visage. “Gonna take her home to meet your mom? Or just keeping it casual?”

“We’re still in the honeymoon phase and not the old and gray like you,” she replied, smiling sweetly and sarcastically. 

They continued their bickering all the way up until it was time for Claire and Jack to leave, making Dean the sole person there once three o’clock rolled around. 

The store was busy almost up until he closed at just after nine. He flipped the sign on the door to closed, and began his usual routine of closing up. He straightened up a few things, and made sure the registers were shut down; then turned the lights off, set the alarm, and locked the door behind him. 

All at once, his distractions were gone, leaving him with just his insecurities and the music that he was buzzing in his ears. It began to drizzle not too long after he left, so he pulled his hood up and sped up his pace even though he was completely exhausted. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and there was an ache just behind his eyes that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he blinked. His stomach growled miserably, but he just ignored it, not having had time to even think about the left over half of sandwich from earlier in the day. The freezing wind that howled past him didn’t help matters either. 

He made it home just before ten thirty, face falling further when he saw that Cas’s jeep still wasn’t in the driveway. It hurt, even though he knew it was a part of Cas’s job and there was nothing either one could do about it. It didn’t stop his chest from tightening or curtail the lump that was currently forming in his throat.

He missed his husband, dammit. 

His hands shook as he unlocked the front door, though he was inwardly thankful at the warmth that greeted him as he finally stepped across the threshold and pulled the door shut behind him. He hung his keys on the key rack, and shrugged off the damp hoodie, hanging it up as well. He briefly considered going into the kitchen, to at least get something warm to drink, but the couch looked more inviting than anything so he trudged over to it, kicking his boots off as he did so and laid down. He pulled the blanket that was draped across the back of it down over himself and closed his eyes, managing to slide his glasses off and sat them on the coffee table before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi


	5. Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, yeah, I'm still working on my smut writing skills, so...my apologies.

Cas scrubbed at his eyes as he pulled into the driveway, though it didn’t help the weariness disappear from them. He’d been through drill after drill after drill in the last three days, and finally got the okay to go home. Twice a year, he was forced to go through them to keep all the men stationed there on their toes, in case of a real emergency. He’d managed to get roughly eight hours of sleep in the time he’d been gone, and he was looking forward to passing out as soon as he made it through the door. 

The shadow of midnight was upon him as he tiredly slipped out of the jeep, rain starting to pour down as he grabbed his bag from the backseat. He forced his legs to do little more than trudge across the lawn and up the few stairs that lead to the front door. He unlocked it as quickly as he could and went inside, dropping his pack by the door and kicking his boots off and onto the small mat that lay to the right of the door. He unbuttoned the uniform top as he made his way further into the house, taking note that Dean was more than likely already asleep since the place was bathed in nothing more than the few flashes of light from the scattered lightning outside that was currently filtering through the windows. Cas wouldn’t have even noticed him on the couch if he hadn’t seen the blanket move as Dean switched sleeping positions and rolled onto his back. Cas jumped at the light movement, then inwardly chided himself for the small fright his husband had given him. 

He considered waking him up, since he knew the couch could be uncomfortable in the long run (he himself having passed out many a time on it only to wake up with a crick in his neck), but decided it would just be easier to carry him upstairs, even if his muscles were currently screaming in protest at every movement he made due to lack of rest and overexertion. He leaned over and carefully slid his hands underneath Dean’s shoulders and knees, lifting him up into a bridal position with ease. He expected grumbles of protest, but he only received Dean burying his head into his chest and gripping his shirt with one hand instead. 

He could tell Dean had lost even more weight, and though he had seen it with his eyes, feeling it was something else altogether. Through the haze of exhaustion, he felt a pang of barely contained excitement course through his veins as he went upstairs and into the bedroom. He gently laid Dean down on the bed, making sure to pull the covers back before he did so. He figured Dean would be more comfortable without sleeping in his hoodie and jeans so he gingerly lifted up his shirt and undid his belt (which he noticed was now on the tightest loop). He slid the jeans down, revealing hip bones that were peaking up through black batman boxer briefs and pale, slender legs. He felt his dick twitch with interest at the sight, and bit his bottom lip. 

Now was not the time.

Once the jeans were removed and folded neatly on the nightstand, he unzipped the hoodie which he realized was his (his eyes finally having adjusted to the darkness). Removing it wasn’t as easy as the pants, but Cas managed to do so without any fuss from Dean. He had to have been exhausted himself as he hadn’t so much as stirred in the slightest. 

For that, Cas was actually kind of thankful. He could see just how flat Dean’s stomach was with the way he was laying now, and he couldn’t help but run a hand down his side, fingertips sliding down clothed ribs that were much easier to feel than before. 

_God, he’s beautiful._

Cas quickly undressed down to his boxers, and slid under the covers as well. He laid on his side facing Dean and draped his arm around him, placing a protective hand on the dip of his stomach. He had almost drifted off when Dean rolled onto his side, and Cas scooted closer, wrapping his arm around him in the process. He fell asleep with thoughts of _so small_ and _mine_ drifting through his head.

 

* * * * *

The smell of bacon and eggs roused him from sleep, and he forced himself to get up, slipping out of the covers ever so reluctantly. Cas rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled on a white t-shirt and dark jeans, the t-shirt clinging snuggly to his larger arms and chest. He forewent socks and shoes, heading to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth instead, then finally going downstairs and into the kitchen. 

Dean was standing at the stove, back to him and Cas could see that he’d changed from the night before. He was clad in a loose, hunter green henley and jeans that were clearly too large on him now. 

“You forgot my glasses,” Dean chided as Cas came up behind him and snaked his arms around his thin waist. “I almost died trying to get down the stairs.” Though his tone was stern, he could feel Dean melt into his touch, leaning back into him as he moved the almost done eggs around in the skillet.

“I missed you,” Cas said, lips close to his ear and he could feel the shiver that ran through Dean’s body. 

“You’re going to make me burn the eggs,” Dean replied, trying to seem unfazed and Cas couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh fine, I missed you too. Happy now?” Dean asked and shut the burner off before turning around to face him.

“Very,” Cas said, raising a hand up from his waist to cup his cheek and kiss him, Dean returning the gesture fervently. His other hand slid up Dean’s side, fingertips once again scraping against his ribs and he let his hand rest there for a moment, feeling the bones just underneath the skin once more before he moved his hand up further, this time grazing Dean’s more prominent collarbone. His dick was starting to get hard, and he could see himself bending Dean over the kitchen table and taking him right then and there. 

His movements suddenly became a little more aggressive, and it didn’t help that Dean was giving back just as good as he was getting. The food was long forgotten as Cas gripped the back of Dean’s hair, breaking their kiss and heading straight for his neck. He dug his teeth in (but not too deep) and sucked at the pale flesh, the action earning nothing but elicit moans from the smaller man. He licked a stripe up Dean’s throat all the way up to the shell of his ear, and Dean shivered in response. 

“Have I told you how gorgeous you are?” he whispered seductively in Dean’s ear, and Dean shook his head.

“N-Not today, you haven’t,” he replied, breath coming in small pants, the green of his eyes barely visible due to blown pupils behind his glasses. 

“Sounds like I need to rectify that,” Cas stated huskily, and started to lift Dean’s shirt up. He watched Dean visibly tense, but he didn’t care. He leaned down and teased one of Dean’s nipples with his tongue, twirling it round and round as he undid the loose jeans. His dick got even harder when he saw just how loose they really were, and he was pretty sure luck was the only thing keeping them up before he had gotten to them. 

They slid down with ease as he bent down further until he was on his knees, with Dean’s back up against the stove. He ran his fingertips down Dean’s sides, lightly scraping the skin until he reached his boxers (recently acquired _Deadpool_ ones seeing as they were the only thing that actually fit him), and pulled them down painstakingly slow until Dean’s heavy, leaking cock was on full display. Cas wasted no time in swallowing him whole in one go, and the action forced Dean’s knees to weaken considerably. His slender fingers were suddenly in Cas’s dark hair, gently pulling and tugging for purchase. Cas slid his hands up Dean’s thighs, all the way to those delectable hip bones that were begging for his attention and squeezed, the gesture sure to leave bruises as he held him tightly in place. 

“My God, don’t stop,” Dean murmured, and Cas swallowed him whole once more, pausing only to lap at Dean’s balls before sliding his tongue up and down Dean’s cock before deep throating him yet again. Dean attempted to buck up into his mouth, but Cas’s hold was too strong on his hips, the action muted by Cas’s pure strength. 

Cas could feel his dick grow achingly hard at the thought, and he almost came on just that alone. 

He pulled back, teasing the tip of Dean’s dick with his tongue before hallowing his cheeks out and taking him all in again. He pulled Dean forward each time he swallowed him whole, Dean’s balls now smacking into his chin with each forced thrust. 

“Oh, fuck!” Dean cried out as he came, hands now gripping the edge of the stove. 

Cas sucked down each and every last drop of cum before standing back up and bringing his lips again up to Dean’s ear. “Table. Now,” he commanded, and Dean stepped out of his pants and boxers and dutifully obeyed him. Cas opened the cupboard and retrieved the jar of coconut oil, unscrewing the lid as he walked over to Dean who was ready and waiting for him, knees bent and hands braced on the heavy mahogany table with his ass up in the air. 

“Fuck me, chief,” he murmured, and Cas forced down an involuntary shiver. 

Cas coated his fingers in the slick substance and didn’t even bother teasing this time around. He was too far gone already for that. He slid one finger in with ease, working and loosening it up so he could add a second. Dean whined low in his throat in response, and Cas made quick work of adding a third. When Dean’s knees began to buckle below him, he set the jar down on the table and snaked an arm around Dean’s waist to hold him in place. He removed his fingers when he was satisfied of the moaning mess he’d turned Dean into and hurriedly coated his dick in the white substance. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in Dean’s ear as he slid in all the way down to the hilt, hand splayed firmly across Dean’s stomach in a possessive manner. He began to thrust into him, taking his sweet time at first — in and out, in and out, inch by delicious inch — but the gentleness only lasted so long. He quickened his speed, other hand sliding up Dean’s spine as he slammed into him, switching positions briefly so that he was hitting the spot that made Dean moan his name. 

Something deep, down inside of him screamed at him that it was wrong to feel such pleasure at Dean’s thinness, but Cas being Cas ignored the voice and kept going, raking his nails against clothed ribs and bare hipbones and before long, the feeling was too much and he was coming harder than he ever had before, Dean following not to far behind. 

They stayed leaned up against the heavy table for a moment (a table that Cas had created himself and was thankful that he’d used such dense wood when he’d made it), both taking a minute to catch their breath, before Cas gradually pulled out of him. He re-situated himself and zipped his jeans back up, all the while grabbing a dishcloth for Dean. 

“I’m guessing the drills went well?” Dean asked as he cleaned himself and the table off. 

“Yes, we passed with flying colors, thankfully,” Cas answered as he took two plates out of one of the cabinets and set them on the table. He grabbed two forks as well, then set about divvying up the food Dean had prepared earlier. “How were things at the bookstore? Are Donna and Jody back yet?”

“No, not yet,” Dean replied as he slipped his boxers and pants back on and poured them both cups of coffee, adding sugar and cream to Cas’s but leaving his black. 

“So did you just work the entire time I was gone?” Cas questioned, raising an eyebrow as he sat down. He took Dean’s hesitance to respond as a yes, oblivious to the fact that it really due to him putting a significant amount more on his plate than Dean’s. 

“Um, kind of,” Dean finally answered, sitting down across from him and taking a long drink from his mug. 

“You need to take a break every now and then,” Cas chided gently, and took a bite out of the now cool but still crisp bacon.

“Yeah…yeah, I know,” he said, voice distant as he took a small bite out of his eggs. “Jack actually kind of needed a favor, so I covered for him last night. Kid finally got to go to his first party, couldn’t let him miss that.” His voice sounded more normal that time around, and he winked at Cas who smiled in return.

“Ah yes, I remember those days. Nothing like hormonal teenage awkwardness at its finest. That was nice of you to do that for him,” Cas added, and took a sip of his coffee. He moaned at the taste, taking a much larger drink than he’d first anticipated. He wasn’t much of a coffee drinker until he’d met Dean. He’d thought it to be more of an acquired taste and used only for it’s caffeinated purposes, but Dean had managed to change his mind, surprising him with new flavors from their local farmers market each week. 

“French silk pie,” Dean said without even needing to be questioned from Cas. “They’d just gotten a fresh batch in when I was there so I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“You chose well,” Cas said with a smile, and finished the cup off. “So are you free today, or do you have to work?”

“I was supposed to go in, but Claire texted me earlier and said she had it covered. It’s Sunday, so it shouldn’t be too bad since it’s only a six hour shift,” Dean explained as he got up and took Cas’s mug, and made him another cup of coffee. 

“So you’re saying I actually get to have you all to myself?” Cas asked, getting up from his chair and coming to stand behind Dean. He wrapped his arms around his waist again and kissed his cheek. 

“That would be a yes, Mr. Handsy,” Dean quipped, and Cas chuckled in response. “You really must’ve missed me, acting like a horny teenager and all,” and Cas laughed even more. 

“You have no idea,” Cas said, squeezing Dean the slightest bit tighter before releasing him and taking the cup of coffee from his hands. “But when you’re as stunningly handsome as you are, it’s kind of hard not to,” he said and leaned against the counter, smug look planted firmly on his face.

“Oh, wow, you are laying it on _thick_ today, buddy,” Dean stated, slapping Cas’s arm playfully with a clean dishtowel. “What precisely is it that you want from me?” he asked, and folded his arms across his chest. 

“Honestly? I just want you. It feels like forever since we’ve actually been able to spend any time together. I miss you,” the blue eyed man stated truthfully, and couldn’t help but grin when Dean abruptly wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace.

“I missed you too,” Dean murmured, voice sounding small and suddenly vulnerable. He buried his nose into Cas’s neck, and Cas set his mug down on the counter, returning the gesture. 

“You okay?” Cas asked, rubbing comforting circles on Dean’s back. 

Dean nodded, and Cas squeezed him just a bit tighter. “So what would you like to do?” Cas asked after a moment, and Dean shrugged in response, though his arms were still wrapped around him. Cas laughed lightly and gently pulled away from him, one hand sliding up from his waist to cup his cheek. He stared at Dean for a moment, at the cheekbones that were most definitely sharper; at the eyes so green that nothing could compare to how beautiful they truly were — not even the ocean at sunset or the view from the peak of the tallest mountain; at the lips that could make him go weak at a second’s notice, and he could only think of how fortunate he really was. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Dean asked after a moment, and his brow lowered when Cas laughed at him. 

“No, no, Dean, you don’t have anything on your face. I just…I’m just a lucky man,” Cas affirmed and planted a gentle kiss on his soft lips. “So,” he said as he pulled away, “What’s it gonna be? Dr. Sexy reruns? Batman marathon? Housecleaning?” And finally Dean’s serious face broke into a small smile at that. 

“Don’t you know the way to a guy’s heart, chief,” Dean scoffed, backing away and beginning to clean up the remnants of breakfast. 

“You know I didn’t mean that last one, right?” Cas inquired, eyebrow quirked again as Dean placed the dishes into the sink, then wiped down the table. 

“You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it,” Dean shot back playfully, avoiding eye contact and making sure the table was spotless before hanging the dishtowel back up.

“We’re not seriously —“

“No, c’mon,” Dean cut him off, pulling him by the arm into the living room. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” Cas muttered, placing a mocking hand to his heart. 

“I think we’ll start with Dr. Sexy reruns, then work our way to the 1989 version of Batman, starring none other than Michael Keaton and the great Jack Nicholson,” Dean stated as he pushed Cas down onto the sofa and pulled out a Dr. Sexy DVD boxset. When he bent over to put the DVD in, his jeans started to creep down, the _Deadpool_ boxers once again making an appearance. 

“We need to get you some new jeans,” Cas stated as Dean grabbed the remote and sat down next to him.

“I have a belt that works just fine,” Dean replied offhandedly and pressed play, then leaned back into Cas’s solid chest as the show started. 

Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head, but wrapped an arm around Dean’s chest anyway, hand coming to rest once again on his ribs. He settled back into the couch, content to be Dean’s body pillow for the time being. 

He was pretty sure days didn’t get too much better than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos


	6. Redbone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the trigger warnings for this chapter! I don't want anyone to be triggered by Dean's thoughts/actions/feelings, so please, please read the tags.

Dean paced the expanse of the bedroom, back and forth, back and forth. He felt stupid really. Stupid because he was nervous. 

About eating Thanksgiving dinner. 

Jody and Donna had invited the three of them - Dean, Jack, and Claire - and their families over for Thanksgiving dinner. Normally, it wouldn’t have been that big of deal. 

But that was before…

Dean found himself biting his thumb nail, though there wasn’t much left to bite since he’d managed to tear most if it off already. 

_It’s just one dinner. One dinner. You can do this,_ he thought, but thinking it and being able to accomplish it were two completely different things. 

He caught his reflection in the floor length mirror and paused. 

Cas had surprised him with new pants a few weeks before. He’d worn thirty-sixes for so long that when he’d picked up the pants and read the _32 x 32_ size on it, he’d scoffed, thinking there was no way in hell he could fit into them.

He was currently wearing a pair, and his belt as well. 

He was pretty sure that somehow that the tags had gotten mixed up or something, because there was no way in hell size thirty-two’s were too large for him now. Even if he had dropped down to 154. 

It felt like the more weight he lost, the better things were between Cas and him. Cas couldn’t keep his hands off of him, and Dean couldn’t help but wonder why. 

Sure, things had been pretty good before…

_Back when you were a fat pig…hell, you still are…_

His brow narrowed as he internally berated himself. 

He ran a hand across his clean shaven face and sighed. Even though everyone commented on how sharp his cheekbones were and asked him why he wasn’t a model instead of a bookstore clerk, he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t help but wonder if a lot more people needed glasses, because there was no way in hell he was in good enough shape for anything like that. He still saw the hint of a double chin when he stared at his face, still saw a gut forming in his mid-section even though he’d gone down two sizes. 

He wanted to believe them, but they were wrong. 

They _had_ to be.

His stomach chose that moment to growl, and worry flooded his system once more. 

He hadn’t eaten in nearly three days. 

And he wasn’t sure he had the self-control to make it through the night without looking like a complete fool. 

He still caught worried looks from Jody and Donna every now then, hell, even Jack and Claire, but for the most part, things had gotten so busy at the shop with the upcoming holidays, that they didn’t really have time to pay attention. 

And for that he was more than thankful.

Jody was present more than Donna due to Donna still helping with her mother more often than not, and she had made sure to bring food in with her every single chance she’d gotten. If it wasn’t fresh donuts every morning, it was cookies or brownies or something ridiculously sweet that smelled amazing, and twisted Dean’s insides into knots. 

He’d caved a few times, just to make her happy, but forced himself to take the long way home those days, just to walk it off.

Guilt was his constant companion, and he hated himself for it.

He’d never been caught up with how he’d looked before, had never really given it much thought. Food had always given him a sense of enjoyment, but that was long gone. Now all it did was make him feel lousy because he was always worried that he was eating too much.

He’d started writing down everything he ate back when Cas had first mentioned him losing weight, keeping it all in a notebook in the drawer of his nightstand. It was strange when he flipped through it and saw how day by day, the amount changed. 

He was living off of seven hundred calories a day, if he was lucky.

“Dean!” Cas’s voice called from downstairs, shaking him from his thoughts. “We should leave soon if we want to get there on time!”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in just a minute!” he shouted back, and gave himself one last once-over. 

It wasn’t a formal gathering by any means, so aside from the new jeans, he’d put on a black _Batman_ t-shirt, along with a black and white flannel. Cas claimed it was one of his favorites, so he’d stuck with it, even though it was one of the smaller ones he’d had. 

He pulled it tighter around his small frame, ignoring the fact that it wasn’t exactly as small as he’d remembered. 

Deciding it was now or never, he let out a breath and exited the room. He headed downstairs, and the scent of the peach cobbler Cas had been so kind to make immediately assaulted his senses. He bit the inside of his cheek as his mouth began to water, steeling himself as he walked into the kitchen.

“Smells good,” he commented, hating the fact that he secretly wished he could eat the whole damn thing all to himself. Cas didn’t bake very often, but when he did, it was like heaven on earth. He had managed to burn quite a bit when they first got together, but had improved greatly as time went by. 

Dean realized in that moment that it was first time Cas had baked something since…

“Thanks,” Cas replied, curtailing him from his train of thoughts once more. “Ready to go?”

“Yep, I’ll grab the beer,” Dean stated, and retrieved the six pack from the fridge. 

That had been the other major thing he’d given up. Aside from all the things he loved to eat, he hadn’t had any alcohol in weeks. Once he’d read about how many calories were in beer (and after admonishing himself about doing it in the first place more than once), he’d stopped drinking it. He was going to allow himself at least one that night, but it was a far cry from the days where he’d consumed an entire six pack and then some just for himself. 

“You okay?” Cas asked as he slipped on his coat, a hint of worry swimming in his blue eyes. “You seem…far away, I suppose.”

Dean offered a small smile at that and nodded. “I’m fine. Just thinking about tomorrow,” he lied, and pulled on his own coat. Though the bookstore was a smaller one, they still held their own black Friday sale, but it was more a customer appreciation day than anything. Dean actually enjoyed the busyness and hectic day, and knew that it would serve as a decent distraction more than anything this year. 

Cas stared at him for a moment, observant eyes looking him over before seeming like he was satisfied with Dean’s answer, though not entirely. 

Dean hated lying to him, hated it so much that it physically hurt sometimes, but he didn’t have the heart to tell him that his mind was mostly focused on what he could or couldn’t eat, or drink for that matter.

Cas had always been an affectionate person, but he was even more so nowadays, and though Dean would never admit to being needy or clingy, he enjoyed it more than he let on. He still didn’t care much for the way Cas loved to touch his stomach, but the man seemed to be damn near obsessed with it, and Dean couldn’t help but try to keep it as empty as possible. 

He thought that if he continued to that, the feeling would lessen, but it only grew worse with each night he fell asleep on his back or side with Cas’s hand tucked contently in the waistband of his boxers.

“Yours or mine?” Cas inquired, and Dean took the opportunity to put his mask back on. He raised a flirty eyebrow in response and quipped, “That’s a tough one, on one hand, yours _is_ bigger, but mine’s prettier to look at.” The comment made Cas throw his head back in laughter, and he shook his head. “We’ll take yours then,” he reaffirmed, and handed Dean his keys. 

Dean took them and opened the door for Cas, letting him go out first, then closing and locking it behind them. 

Flurries were scattering around them, the wind catching them and twirling them about. The sky was a lighter shade of gray, appearing as though the sun wanted to shine through before it was due to set, but couldn’t quite break through. 

The air was cold and relentless, the throes of winter appearing sooner rather than later this year. 

Dean shivered as he unlocked the Impala and climbed in, reaching behind him to set the beer in the backseat. Even through his jeans, he could feel the chill of the leather seats, and quickly started the gorgeous metallic beast up, turning on the heat and giving it a few minutes before he pulled out of the driveway and down the street.

They drove in companionable silence for awhile, _Led Zeppelin’s No Quarter_ playing lightly on the radio. After a few minutes, he felt Cas’s warm hand slide over his. 

“Your fingers are like icicles,” Cas commented, sandwiching Dean’s hand in between his. 

Dean chuckled at him. “Well, it is like thirty degrees out here, so there’s that.” 

“Smartass,” Cas muttered with a playful smile on his face, still trying to heat up Dean’s hand with his.

Dean was cold practically all the time now, a fact that he was less than proud of. He figured he should’ve put on one more layer, but didn’t want to look too out of place at dinner, although he did it most days at the bookstore now. 

The roads were mostly empty so they made it to Jody and Donna’s a little early, although it looked as though Jack and his mom had managed to beat them there, Ms. Kline’s light blue sedan already parked in front of the two story house.

The house itself had creme colored siding, and a decent sized porch, with steps leading up to it. At the top of the stairs, there were two small, inflated cartoon turkeys adorning each side. Dean smiled at what he presumed were Donna’s decorations. While Jody preferred the plainer side of things, Donna loved to decorate and therefore the bookstore was always plastered with turkeys or pumpkins or Christmas trees when the time came. 

Dean knocked on the door, and they were both greeted by a grinning Donna who was clad in a gray sweater with a turkey on it that had an air bubble above it with the words **Gobble Til You Wobble** in it. She immediately hugged Dean (even though she’d just seen him the day before at the bookstore), then turned to Cas, her eyes widening in surprise when she felt the muscles underneath his jacket. 

“Well, hello there you two, come on in,” she said, standing back and allowing them entry. “Oh, now what is that you’ve got there, mister?” she asked, taking the glass dish from Cas as he shrugged off his coat. 

“Peach cobbler,” the blue eyed man replied with a smile as he hung his coat on the rack by the door. 

Donna lifted the lid a bit and inhaled the scent of the contents, her grin widening. “That smells delicious! Although, you shouldn’t have, but thank you, Castiel,” she said, her megawatt smile still firmly in place. She looked at Dean and winked, then chuckled when she saw the beer in his hand. “Jody’s gonna be happy to see you,” she joked, elbowing him in the ribs before leading them away from the foyer and into the living room.

Dean’s stomach growled at the smell of the food that was wafting in from the kitchen, and he clenched his jaw, hating the weak feeling that was consuming him. He tried to force it away, and instead plastered a smile on his face when he saw Jack and his mother sitting on the couch, the sound of an old _Friends_ rerun coming from the modest sized TV. 

“Hey, Jack, Ms. Kline,” Dean nodded in greeting. 

“It’s okay to call me Kelly, Dean,” the woman chided with a kind but tired smile on her face. “It’s nice to see you again.” Thanks to Jack, Dean knew that she was a nurse and had been taking on extra shifts as of late. More than likely to buy Jack Christmas presents, although the teenager claimed it was for bills.

“Kelly, this is my husband, Cas,” Dean introduced him, and Cas shook her hand in kind. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kelly,” Cas said with a polite smile.

“You as well,” she returned and scooted over. 

“Yes, you two make yourselves comfortable while I go put this up for safe keeping until everything’s ready,” Donna stated, and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“I’ll be right back, make sure they don’t need any help,” Dean said, and gave Cas a quick kiss on the cheek before he followed Donna. Jody was checking the turkey in the oven when Dean entered. When she stood up, he couldn’t help but laugh at the apron she was wearing. It was brown and shaped like a turkey, with red, yellow and brown felt feathers lined along the bottom of it. He couldn’t stop chuckling, even when her welcome expression turned into an unamused one. “That is…wow, that is something else,” he managed to get out as he set the beer on the kitchen counter. 

“You’re getting a reprieve solely for the fact that you brought that,” she stated flatly before she winked at him and gave him a half hug.

“Everything smells heavenly,” Dean commented and pulled out two beers, handing one to Jody and taking one for himself. He leaned against the counter and removed the top. “Do you need any help with anything?” he asked, then took a sip. He savored the taste, letting the liquid roll around in his mouth before swallowing it, knowing it would be awhile before he’d allow himself to have another.

“You are just the sweetest, aren’t you?” Donna asked, as she breezed past him and stirred something on the stove. 

He blushed at the compliment, but shook his head. “Just making sure you two aren’t working yourselves too hard is all,” he said, and took another sip of the beer. 

“We invited you over, pal, although if you’d like to take over, by all means,” Jody said, gesturing to the stove. “The only condition is, you’ve gotta put this on,” she stated, gesturing to the apron. 

Dean laughed and shook his head. “I’m good, thanks. I can set the table though —“

“Go! Shoo!” Jody said, pushing him playfully away and towards the living room. “You are our guest. Go mingle like — wow, your husband has definitely been working out…” Jody muttered, glancing at Cas and the tight navy blue shirt he was wearing. 

“Hi, Jody!” Cas called out and waved, and she waved in return. “That’s quite a festive apron you’ve got there,” he commented and she smiled.

“Don’t I know it,” she said under her breath, and turned back to Dean who was just standing there staring expectantly at her. “What? Go, make yourself comfortable.” 

“Are you sure —“

“Now, young man,” she ordered, and he finally relented and went back into the living room. Instead of crowding onto the couch, he sat down in the over-sized and comfortable recliner chair that he’d heard Donna complain about Jody falling asleep in more than once. He could definitely understand why as he settled into it, wondering if he and Cas should get one. 

“Can I get you guys anything to drink?” Donna asked, appearing once more from the kitchen. “We’ve got soda, water, punch, or even wine,” she added with a wink. “Oh, and hot cocoa too.”

“Water will be fine,” Cas replied with a smile. 

“I’ll have another Mt. Dew if that’s okay,” Jack answered shyly, glancing at his mom before looking up at Donna. 

“I’m good for now, but will definitely take you up on a glass of wine later,” Kelly said, and Donna nodded and smiled. 

“Okay, one sugar-filled Mt. Dew for the teenager and one glass of water for Mr. Muscles coming right up,” Donna announced, and disappeared back into the kitchen, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. 

“Hmm…Mr. Muscles, that’s a new one,” Dean teased, waggling his eyebrows at Cas who shook his head and pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt down in attempt to hide his tanned skin, though the sleeves slid right back up as soon as he folded his arms across his chest. 

“Can’t hide those guns,” Dean quipped and laughed at the expression on his husband’s face. “ _You_ chose to wear that shirt. Don’t get mad that the rest of us are so appreciative,” he stated and took another drink from the beer, feeling like a major lightweight due to the fact that he was somehow already slightly buzzed. 

“How’s your mother doing?” Cas asked Donna as she came back into the room with their drinks. 

“Oh, she’s doing really well, thanks for asking,” Donna replied and smiled. “Speaking of which, I’d better go wake her up from her nap. Be back in a flash,” she said, and went upstairs. 

“Claire still coming?” Dean called out to Jody, peering over the chair into the kitchen. 

“She’s going to be fashionably late as usual,” Jody replied, tucking some loose graying locks behind her ear as she came into the room. She stood next to Dean and took a sip of her beer, casting a glance at the television. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t switched it to the football game.”

Dean scoffed at her. “Sports? Uh, pass.”

Cas chimed in. “If it’s not comic book related or Dr. Sexy, he’s not watching it.” 

“Hey! I watch Game of Thrones and plenty of other shows that aren’t comic book themed,” Dean defended himself, tossing a throw pillow at Cas in the process. 

“Oh, really. Why don’t you name a few then?” the darker-haired man challenged playfully with a raised brow and a smirk on his lips.

“There’s…Deadwood and — “

“Oh, I do stand corrected, anything that has to do with westerns as well,” Cas stated with a triumphant grin and Dean rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Oh, thank God,” Jody muttered as the timer went off in the kitchen. “Hope you all are hungry because we’ve got enough food to feed an army,” she added as she disappeared back into the kitchen. 

Dean bit his cheek again because he was fucking _starving_ and it felt like his stomach had just decided to collapse in on itself. 

A knock at the door forced him to his feet in an attempt to distract himself from how hungry he truly was. He set the beer down on the large wooden coffee table and headed to the front door. “I got it!” he called out, not wanting Jody or Donna to have to rush to let Claire in. He opened the door, and just as predicted, Claire was standing there hand in hand with who he presumed was Kaia, the girl he’d overheard her telling Jack about. 

“You need a better phone, something with a louder alarm on it,” he joked as they came in. 

Claire rolled her eyes at him in turn, and took off her coat. “Kaia, this is Dean, the senior citizen I work with,” she announced, smug grin lifting up the corners of her lips.

“Just for the record,” Dean started, as he held out his hand to shake Kaia’s, “I’m only 26.”

“Soon to be 27,” Claire returned, and took Kaia’s coat from her, hanging it next to hers on the coatrack. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean,” Kaia said with a small smile on her thin face, and shook his hand. 

“I guess opposite’s do attract,” Dean said. “Sweet,” and he pointed at Kaia; “Sour,” he quipped and pointed at Claire. He chuckled at the annoyed expression on her face and took his place back in the chair. 

“I’m surprised you showed up,” Claire said as she sat down on the love seat, blue eyes boring into Dean’s. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked with a shrug, leaning over to pick his beer back up. 

“Because there’s actually fo —“

“Claire, my dear, if you would be so kind as to come here for a moment,” Jody asked, seeming to appear out of nowhere and managing to cut her off from whatever comment she was going to make to Dean. 

“Ok-ay,” she said, and got back up, side-eyeing Dean as she walked past him. 

“Since your girlfriend is too rude to care, Kaia, that is my husband, Cas; that’s Jack, which you may have already met, and his mom,” Dean introduced them all. 

“Hi,” she said, and folded her hands in her lap shyly. 

“So, I’m dying to know, how did you two kids meet? Because I’ve been trying to figure out for the longest time, if Claire can actually be —“

“Shut up, Winchester!” Claire called from the kitchen, effective cutting him off for the moment.

“I see Claire is here,” Donna stated brightly as she came back down the stairs, an older woman with short, gray hair in tow. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Donna introduced them. “Everybody, this is my mom, Sarah; mom, this is Dean, Castiel, Jack, Kelly — Oh, I’m sorry dear, what’s your name?” she inquired, looking at the dark haired girl.

“Kaia,” she answered with a polite smile and a wave. 

“Alrighty, Kaia, it’s nice to meet you and welcome! I guess we’re gonna get this party started, huh?” she announced, and led her mother towards the dining room. “If you’re hungry, follow us!” 

Dean took in a deep breath before he got up, mentally trying to prepare himself for what was to come. 

_You’re going to look like a pig, sitting there stuffing your face._

His inner voice taunted him relentlessly, and he could feel the pang of anxiety hit him square in the chest as he sat down at the table. Cas took a seat next to him, resting his hand on Dean’s knee and giving it a gently squeeze. 

“You okay?” he whispered in his ear, and Dean nodded in response, forcing his lips to turn upwards in some semblance of a smile. 

“I’m fine,” he reassured the other man, though he was anything but. His heart was starting pound in his ears, and he could feel his hands begin to grow clammy and shaky. 

_Fuck!_

He watched with careful eyes as the table was suddenly flooded with food. Mashed potatoes and gravy, along with stuff and rolls, and plenty of vegetables to boot. Finally, Jody entered with the turkey and set it down right in front of him as he was seated near the end of the table. 

“I can finally take this hideous thing off,” he heard her speak under her breath, and he couldn’t help but laugh lightly at that. It eased some of the tension he was feeling, but not by much. He watched as she untied the apron, and tossed it aside. “Alright folks, before we dig into this food, Donna and I would just like to thank you all for coming, and especially for all the hard work you three have put in in the last few months. We can’t tell you enough how much we both appreciate it.”

Donna came to stand by her side, taking Jody’s hand in hers for a moment. “Ditto to what she just said,” flashing her toothy grin, though Dean could see that her brown eyes were glistening. “And I just want to thank you three again for letting me take the time to help my mom out. It really does mean the world to me — to us…” She paused for a moment in an attempt to compose herself as Jody wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Oh, what I am doing? Thank you guys, now let’s eat!” 

Dean tried to act as casually as he could, placing some of everything on his plate and acting like nothing was wrong. He was trying desperately to not think about how many calories were in front of him, but it was an impossible feat. He managed to at least eat slowly, cutting the turkey into smaller pieces, and focusing on eating more of the vegetables than anything. 

“So how’s the navy treating you, Cas?” Jody asked, glancing between him and Dean. 

“Fairly well,” Cas replied. “I’m currently up for another promotion, and I’ll find out in a few weeks whether or not I get it.”

“That’s amazing!” Donna chimed in from across the table. “We all know Dean’s definitely proud of you,” she said with a wink.

“I wouldn’t have made it this far without him,” Cas stated truthfully, flashing Dean a sincere smile and Dean couldn’t help but blush.

“Oh, that’s adorable!” Jody proclaimed, placing a hand over her mouth as she chewed. “Look at those little red cheeks!”

“You guys are killing me,” Dean muttered with a playful roll of the eyes and took another bite of stuffing. “This is really good,” he said, pointing to the food. “You two really outdid yourselves.” 

A round of agreement came from everyone at the table, and he was thankful that he’d managed to take the attention away from himself. He hadn’t even finished half of his plate yet and his stomach was beginning to cramp. He forced himself to take a drink of water, fighting back the bile that was beginning to rise in the back of his throat. It was starting to become too much, and he could feel how heavy his stomach was getting. He didn’t even want to look down because he knew with as much food as he’d just consumed, it was sure to be bulging out. He clenched his jaw and forced another bite of turkey into his mouth, instantly regretting the action as he felt his shirt grow tighter around his mid-section. 

“I’ll be right back, gotta hit the head,” he murmured to Cas and excused himself from the table. He’d only been to Donna and Jody’s a handful of times, but he recalled where the bathroom was and hurriedly made his way to it, thankful that it was at the other end of the house. Without even thinking about it, he turned on the water and rushed to the toilet, flipping the lid up and kneeling down. It wasn’t long before the contents of his stomach had transferred themselves into the white porcelain bowl, and he couldn’t help but feel relief. 

He took a moment before he stood up on shaky knees, flushing down his transgressions, then rinsing his mouth out with water. He took his glasses off as well so he could splash some of the cooly refreshing water on his face. Once he’d dried it off, he put his glasses back on and studied himself in the mirror. His face was still splotchy from the forced vomiting, but his stomach was empty again and for that he was grateful. He let out a few deep breaths before shutting the water off and exiting the bathroom. 

He nearly jumped out his skin as he opened the door and saw Kaia standing there. “Drank a little too much too fast,” he explained as she just nodded unsurely at him. He turned around and rolled his eyes at himself, then scrubbed a hand across his face, hoping and praying that she hadn’t been standing there the entire time or he was totally fucked. He absentmindedly rubbed his stomach as he made his way back towards the kitchen, it actually feeling flat for once underneath his fingers. 

He’d never really considered the whole ‘purging after you eat thing before’, but it suddenly made sense to him now. 

They wouldn’t worry about him anymore if he ate normally in front of them, or ate something in front of them at all. And all he had to do in turn was stick two fingers down his throat and force it all back up.

_Piece of cake…_

He felt an odd sense of giddiness as he sat back down and began the task of finishing his plate. He’d actually be able to eat pie again, at least for the night. It would suck coming back up, just as everything else would, but at least he’d be able to relish the _before_ taste of it. 

He could do this.

No, he _would_ do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos  
> Chapter 6 : Redbone - Childish Gambino


	7. Night Moves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking so long to update. My laptop died unexpectedly, and with its untimely death, it took a large part of this chapter with it because I forgot to back it up, so I had to rewrite a good chunk of it.

Cas was almost done filing the last of his reviews when the phone on his desk rang. He ran a hand through his hair and answered. 

“Chief Novak speaking,” he greeted whomever was on the other end of the line. 

“Chief Novak, this is Master Chief Shurley. Please report to my office immediately,” the other man ordered.

“Yes, sir, Master Chief, Shurley, sir,” Cas replied and hung up. His heart started to thump in his chest. He had been up for another promotion — Senior Chief Petty Officer. Aside from bumping him up another pay grade, it also gave him another week’s vacation. It did, however, come with more responsibilities and a larger work load, but he knew it would be worth it. 

He stood up from his desk, making sure everything was in order before he exited the information room and made his way towards Master Chief Shurley’s office. He straightened his uniform as he approached the door, smoothing out any noticeable creases before he knocked on the door with the placard that had the Master Chief’s name and rank on it. 

“Come in!” the command came from behind the door. 

Cas let out a breath and entered, closing the door behind him and coming to stand at attention before his seated superior. 

Master Chief Shurley was a smaller man with short, wavy brown hair. He was older than Cas by at least ten years, gray starting to become noticeable at his temples. On good days, he was laughing and joking along with the rest of the men, but on bad days, Cas knew from experience that he could be a real asshole though he kept that thought to himself. The man was his superior and though Cas got along well with the other men he served with, he preferred not to gossip or complain about the Master Chief, much to his friends’ chagrin.

“Chief Novak, please, have a seat,” Shurley offered, gesturing towards one of the chairs that was in front of his desk.

“Sir,” Cas said with a nod, and did as he was told. He hoped that he didn’t appear as nervous as he felt. He could feel his hands beginning to grow clammy, sweat starting to pool at the top of his spine. 

“Have any plans for Christmas?” the smaller man asked offhandedly, not yet making eye contact but continuing to sign paper after paper, stacking them in a neat pile in one of the many silver paper organizer bins on his put together desk.

The question caught Cas off guard, and he shrugged. “Um, not really, sir. Just going to spend it with my husband and a few friends, I suppose,” Cas answered carefully. 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” the Master Chief replied, and finally set his pen down. He took a sip from his coffee mug, and finally looked Cas in the eyes. His expression was now serious, and that worried Cas. “Now, we both know that’s not the reason I called you in here, but still, good to know.” He paused and set the mug down, folding his hands in front of him on the desk. “The reason I requested your presence…is to congratulate you, Senior Chief Petty Officer Novak.” 

Cas stared at him for a moment, letting the words sink in. “Sir, thank you, sir!” he said, unable to hide the smile that was stretching across his lips. 

Surprisingly, the smaller man offered a smile back. 

_Thank God, it’s a good day._

He stood up and reached out his hand which Cas shook eagerly. “You earned it, Chief,” he stated, and patted him on the shoulder. The smile gradually disappeared off of his face, and was replaced with a more serious expression. “There is one other thing,” the Master Chief said and sat back down. 

Cas followed suit, worry starting to creep in again. 

“You’re being reassigned,” and at those words, Cas felt his heart leap into his throat. 

_No, it wasn’t supposed to be this soon…_

“To the _USS Chinook_. Its primary location is in Bahrain, but due to the rising tensions near and in the middle east, you will be on water more than you’ll be on land. Your assignment date to report is January 12th. You’ll do training drills on the _USS Russell_ in San Diego for three weeks, then be deployed to Manama,” Master Chief Shurley finished. Sympathy danced in his eyes but his expression was one of pure stoicism. 

“For…” Cas cut himself off, attempting to clear his throat and force away the lump that had managed to form in it. “For how long?” he finally managed to get out. Deployments could last anywhere from six months to two years, and he prayed for the former rather than latter.

“For one year. Afterwards, depending upon the situation, you may be called to remain there for the following year, or you’ll be reassigned to another location,” Shurley answered. 

“I see,” Cas said with a nod. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. “Thank you, sir,” he said and forced a polite smile onto his face though he was anything but happy. He stood up and shook his commander’s hand one last time before he was excused. 

He returned to his station, but his mind was a million miles away. He knew this day would come, but he wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. He was going to miss Dean’s birthday, their anniversary…

All this and Christmas was only a week away. 

_How am I going to break this to him?_

He sighed and stared blankly at the computer screen. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to finish the rest of his reviews. They’d have to wait. He scrubbed a hand across his face and shut the machine down. He checked the time and saw that it was already half past six anyway. 

“Cas, you okay?” Gadreel’s voice came from behind him and he actually jumped at the sound of it. “Geez, man, what’s going on?” the dark haired man asked, concern etched into the lines of his face. 

Cas took a breath and stood up, pushing the office chair under the desk. 

“That bad, huh?” Gad prodded, eyebrow arched in expectation.

“I, uh, I got the promotion,” Cas replied, grim smile on his lips.

“Well, that’s great! But —“

“But, I’ve been reassigned — to Bahrain.” 

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Gad’s expression turned from one of concern to understanding.

“Have you told Dean yet?” he asked.

“No,” Cas said with a shake of his head. “I just found out.”

“You wanna go grab a few beers?” Gad offered. “Maybe take the edge off before…you know.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I think it’d be best if I did this sober. So…raincheck?” Cas suggested, and Gad nodded. 

“Sure, but we’re still going to have to celebrate, you know that right? Even if we do have to lend you to Bahrain for awhile,” Gad stated and patted Cas on the shoulder. 

Cas offered up the best smile he could fake and nodded. “Of course. I’m going to head out,” he said and grabbed his coat, not even bothering to change out of his uniform.

“Take it easy brother,” Gad said, and Cas gave another nod and exited the work station area. 

His footfalls echoed down the hallways as he made his way out of the building, his mind starting to drift into a daze.

The last time he’d been assigned to a ship, he was fresh out of training and served for two years on the _USS Asheville_. It had been his first assignment, one he’d taken on with gusto. He’d done so well, in fact, that it had landed him the assignment in Kansas where he’d met Dean. 

They’d only been separated for a few weeks at a time since then, mostly when he’d had training classes here and there, but for the most part, Dean had been with him every step of the way. 

He felt tears spring to his eyes as he drove, the wintry scene outside suddenly becoming blurry.

Dean was his everything, and to not be able to see him every day or touch him — that was going to hurt. 

He wiped the tears away with the heel of his hand, hating that the want for a better life was going to take them away from each other. 

The logical part of his mind told him that the year would go by quickly, and if he was lucky, he’d be able to take a week’s leave if things weren’t too bad. But the logic didn’t help when the other half of your heart and soul would no longer be sleeping beside you each night or kissing you good morning at the start of every day. 

The thought of just outright resigning and quitting flitted at the back of his mind, but he shot the idea down just as fast as it had come. He’d put in over ten years into his career, and Dean would kill him if he gave up now. 

He’d been so lost in thought that he’d driven right past their house and then some. He circled back and parked in the driveway, the frigid air hitting him before he even exited the jeep. He glanced up at the house, taking note that the lights were on and that meant that Dean was definitely home. 

_You can’t put this off. You have to tell him. Now._

Feeling like the weight of the world was directly on his shoulders, Cas made his way inside, though he was quiet as he did so. He shut the door silently behind him and shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack. 

The smell wafting in from the kitchen was heavenly, and he felt tears spring to his eyes as he stood in place, watching Dean as he sung along to Bob Seger’s _Night Moves_ and stirred something on the stove, his hips swaying slightly to the music.

Cas took that moment and let the image burn into his brain as he took in the much slighter man that stood before him — the loose jeans; the flannel shirt that boasted hues of blue, black, white and red with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows; and his hair that was a little longer than he usually kept it — God, this was going to hurt.

He forced the tears away for the time being, all the while knowing they were going to come back with a vengeance sooner rather than later.

“Cas? That you?” Dean called out. “Because if it’s not, there’s gonna be a problem,” Dean warned and Cas felt the tiniest of smiles creep upon his face. 

“Y-yeah, it’s me, Dean,” he responded and cleared his throat. 

Dean glanced over his shoulder at him, and upon seeing that his uniform was still on, lowered his brow. Cas usually changed before he came home, so the fact that he hadn’t was a red flag. “You okay?” Dean inquired, pulling the towel that he had draped across his shoulder off and hanging it on the oven handle. 

Cas stared at him, blue eyes sparkling before shaking his head. He bit his bottom lip and tried to steel himself for what was to come, but the worried expression that was now on Dean’s face told him he had done a shitty job of it. “We-we need to talk,” he finally managed to get out, and Dean immediately turned the burner off and headed towards him. 

“Cas, what’s wrong?” he asked as he exited the kitchen and went over to him, hand immediately cupping his cheek. 

“It’s probably best that we sit down,” Cas stated, heart starting to break at the concerned look glimmering in Dean’s green eyes. 

Dean nodded and his hand slipped to Cas’s bicep as he gently guided him towards the sofa and sat down. “Is everything alright? Your mom —“

“She’s fine, Dean…it’s…I-I got the promotion,” he explained slowly and Dean stared at him expectantly, knowing there was more to come. “But with the promotion — I’m being reassigned.”

In the midst of his explanation, Dean had managed to hold Cas’s hands, and as the announcement slipped from his lips, he felt Dean squeeze them lightly. 

Dean was silent for a moment, gaze drifting somewhere behind Cas. He bit down on his bottom lip before finally asking, “Where to?”

“Bahrain,” Cas answered, chest aching at the sight of Dean already trying to make plans to accommodate them. “I’m being deployed on the _USS Chinook_. The assignment is for a year, and then I’ll be stationed somewhere else.” And at that, he watched as Dean’s carefully put together mask cracked, his eyes now glimmering with tears yet there was still determination set in them.

“We’ll make it work,” he said immediately with a nod, as though to reassure himself and Cas. “Whatever it takes, we’ll get through this.” Dean’s voice faltered ever so slightly and he was cupping Cas’s cheeks again as though he were holding on for dear life. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around Cas’s shoulders, pulling him close. Cas returned the gesture, burying his head in Dean’s shoulder and taking in his scent. He currently smelled of apples and cinnamon, and Cas couldn’t help but lean in closer, tears springing to his eyes as he felt Dean’s hand on the back of his neck.

“I love you, Dean,” he murmured, and he felt Dean gently squeeze the back of his neck. 

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean returned and pulled back momentarily to plant a kiss on Cas’s forehead before embracing him once more. “It’ll go by before we know it,” he reassured and Cas nodded into his shoulder though he remained silent. He wanted to stay in that moment forever and never let go. God, he wished he could just stop time, even if for only a day. 

“I have to report on the twelfth of January,” he murmured, and felt Dean’s breath hitch slightly at that. 

“Then we’d better make this the best fucking Christmas ever, huh?” Dean asked, pulling back again to kiss him gently on the lips. 

Cas nodded and finally opened his eyes, a stray tear escaping past his lashes and trickling down his cheek. Dean swiped it away with the pad of his thumb, and leaned in and kissed him again. 

“It’s going to be alright, Cas,” he stated and offered up a smile, the sight only torturing Cas’s heart even more. With the weight loss accompanied with the glasses, Dean somehow managed to look younger than his twenty-six years. 

“Yeah, I know,” Cas said with a nod, “But it hurts like hell though. I’m never going to smell whatever it is you cooked tonight on a ship. I don’t even want to think about what I’ll be forced to eat,” and those words got a laugh out of Dean, even if the sound was closer to a sob than a chuckle. “What am I going to do without you?” Cas asked, staring into Dean’s eyes.

The smile, however pained it was, slid off of Dean’s face. He half- shrugged in response. “Miss me?”

“Always,” Cas nodded and felt more tears spring to his eyes. This time, he was the one to initiate the kiss, and he could feel Dean melt into it. He cupped one of his slender cheeks, gently rubbing his thumb across the sharp cheekbone. He deepened the kiss, hand now sliding to the back of Dean’s head, and Dean returned it eagerly, hands roaming over Cas’s chest and shoulders. 

Dean broke the kiss after a few minutes, lips hovering dangerously close to Cas’s ear. “Fuck me, Chief. Need to feel you. _Now_.”

Dean’s voice traveled straight to Cas’s cock, and before he knew it, he was on his feet, pulling Dean up with him. With bruising strength, he placed his hands on Dean’s hips and lifted him up, the action easier than it had ever been. Dean wrapped his legs around his waist and his arms around Cas’s shoulders, mouth crashing into Cas’s once again. 

Moving with ease, Cas made his way upstairs and into their bedroom, inwardly thankful that Dean had forgotten to turn off the light on the nightstand. He gently laid Dean down on the bed, positioning his body over him and began to slide off Dean’s shirts. He felt Dean’s breath hitch ever so slightly as he broke the kiss and pulled them up and over Dean’s head. 

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Cas whispered as he stared at the sight laid bare before him. 

Dean was thin, almost to the point of being bony, his ribs peaking through his pale flesh and Cas couldn’t help but reach out and run his fingertips down the hollows in between the bones. His waist was thin, the size thirty-twos he’d bought him being held up with a belt that was clearly too big for him for now, several holes having been made since he’d reached the smallest one.

“You’re halfway there, Chief, don’t stop now,” Dean murmured with a wink, and Cas couldn’t help but smile at the quip. He started undoing the belt, and once that task was completed, hooked his thumbs through the belt loops and slid the baggy denim down, revealing fitting boxer briefs that had to be new since they clung snugly to Dean’s small frame. “You’re taking too long,” Dean complained, and somehow managed to switch their positions. Cas chuckled at him as Dean forwent undoing the buttons on his uniform top and just slid it over Cas’s head, revealing a tight, white t-shirt in its wake. His green eyes widened at this, the tan that Cas somehow managed to hold during the winter showing clear and present along with his more muscular chest and arms.

“And I’m the one taking too long,” Cas scoffed playfully and Dean narrowed his eyes at him, making quick work of stripping the man below him of the rest of his uniform.

“You won’t be saying that for long,” Dean muttered as he kissed down Cas’s chest, scraping his nails down Cas’s sides as he licked at a nipple, making it stand at attention almost immediately. 

“At this rate, you’re – ohhh – probably right,” Cas managed to get out as Dean nipped at a hip bone as he finally rid Cas of his last piece of clothing. He carelessly tossed the plain, white boxers to the floor, mouth heading straight for the large cock that was currently leaking pre-come. With one swift move, he engulfed Cas into his mouth and Cas couldn’t help but thrust up in response, the heat of Dean’s mouth sending sparks through his vision. He gently placed his right hand at the nape of Dean’s neck, running his fingers through the fine hair there as Dean brought him closer and closer to the edge. Dean hummed and hollowed his cheeks, taking Cas fully in and out, in and out over and over again until the edges of Cas’s vision darkened and he felt himself coming with a jolt, Dean swallowing down every bit of it and then some even after he had finished. 

Cas bit his bottom lip as Dean came up for air and finally shed the boxer briefs that had been containing the hard on that was now finally free. 

“Hope you’re ready for round two,” Dean murmured huskily into his ear as he leaned over him and removed the lube from the drawer of the nightstand. The action made his thinness stand out even more and Cas couldn’t stop his hands from skating over the smooth skin of his ribs and all the way down to the bare hipbones that were just begging to be touched. Dean popped the cap on the bottle and positioned himself on his knees, one on each side of Cas. Cas watched with lust-filled eyes as Dean started to open himself for Cas, starting with one finger, then two. He started to moan as two turned into three, and Cas could feel his dick growing rock hard once more. He couldn’t help but stroke himself as he watched Dean fuck himself on his fingers, Dean’s eyes scrunched shut in pleasure as he added a fourth. 

After what felt like and eternity, Dean finally removed his fingers and opened his eyes, the green almost completely overtaken by his pupils. He pushed Cas’s hand off of his dick, slicking it up with a generous amount of lube and positioned himself over the leaking head, then sat down slowly, taking it in inch by glorious inch until he could no more. Cas moaned at the tightness, at the feeling of having his cock completely and utterly enveloped by Dean’s heat. His hands found their way to Dean’s hips where bruises were already starting to form and bucked up as Dean came down. 

“My, God, you’re amazing,” he ground out, voice even more gravelly than usual as Dean rode his cock like it was the champion stallion in a horse show. He let one hand stray to Dean’s lonely but leaking cock, using the pre-come that was dripping from the tip to glide his hand up and down, the action making Dean moan his name and ride him even faster. 

“Cas, Cas, I’m gonna – I’m gonna come! Oh fuck!” Dean exclaimed, white, hot strings shooting from the tip of his dick and all over Cas’s rock hard abs and chest. Cas didn’t last much longer, burning the image of Dean bouncing on his dick with the most delicious look of pleasure on his debauched visage into his brain so that he could look back on it for the lonely nights to come. 

Dean collapsed onto him afterwards, grimacing only as his skin made contact with the cooling come that Cas was still covered in. 

“You’re adorable,” Cas commented and Dean groaned, burying his head into Cas’s shoulder. Cas, in turn, wrapped his arms around him, holding him in place for the moment. While one hand stayed steady in the middle of his back, he let the other one roam the expanse of Dean’s pale skin, fingertips skirting lightly down his spine.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Dean finally murmured, “I don’t want you to go.” The statement was followed by sniffle, and Cas held him all the more tightly.

“I don’t want to go either. I really don’t,” Cas said, honesty fully present in his tone. 

“But you have to.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper, but due to the quiet of the room, Cas had no trouble hearing it.

“Yeah, yeah I do…”

He could feel Dean take in a deep breath, then slowly lift his head up, placing his forehead against Cas’s. “We’d better make it count then,” he murmured against Cas’s lips, then kissed him. Cas returned the gentle gesture, one hand coming up to rest on Dean’s cheek. After a few moments, Dean pulled away, but not by far, the tips of their noses still touching. “Let’s start with a shower then because you’re kind of gross,” he stated and scrunched his nose.

“I’m only gross because of you,” Cas returned with a chuckle. “But you’re right, we’re definitely both in need of a good rinse,” he added and slid out from underneath Dean. Knowing he’d hear a yelp of surprise after the fact, he made quick work of picking Dean up and putting him in a fireman’s carry as he exited the bedroom. 

“Hey!” Dean cried out in surprise, holding onto his glasses with one hand and slapping Cas’s perfect ass with the other. 

“So adorable,” Cas laughed and made his way into the bathroom, finally setting Dean down in front of the shower. 

“I’ll show you adorable alright,” Dean threatened and smacked Cas’s ass again as he leaned over and turned on the hot water. 

“You sure will, my little bookworm,” Cas joked and stood back up, unable to stop laughing at the pouted lips and lowered eyebrows Dean was giving him. “Oh, stop now and come here. Let me clean you off,” Cas said and offered his hand out to Dean as he stepped over the tub edge and under the steamy spray. 

Dean rolled his eyes but followed suit, removing his glasses and setting them on the sink counter before accepting Cas’s hand and getting in. Cas moved so that Dean could stand directly under the showerhead, letting him take the brunt of the hot water. Cas picked up the body wash that Dean used, popping the top open and pouring the honey scented liquid out onto the palm of his hand. He set the bottle back down and splayed his hand across Dean’s chest, slowly but surely lathering him up. A smile crept upon Dean’s lips as Cas made sure that every inch of him was covered in the deliciously scented substance, including his cock.

“We’re not teenagers anymore,” Dean quipped and Cas moved closer so that his lips were ghosting Dean’s ear. 

“We’re not old men yet either,” Cas commented and ran his tongue up from Dean’s collarbone to just underneath his earlobe, nipping at the appendage as he reached around and squeezed Dean’s ass. Dean leaned into him, moaning as he did so.

“My, God,” Dean muttered and bit his bottom lip as Cas lowered himself to his knees, licking and biting the whole way down. 

“I think you’ve got one more in you tonight,” Cas said and before Dean had a chance to answer, took him into his mouth while simultaneously sliding his hand across his balls and placing a prodding middle finger into his entrance. 

Dean’s knees went week momentarily so he grasped at Cas’s head, his fingers finding purchase in his dark, damp hair. 

Cas continued his ministrations, teasing the tip of Dean’s cock with his tongue whilst sliding his finger in and out, in and out before he added his index finger and seeking out the bundle of nerves that would leave Dean boneless and thankful that there was a shower wall for him to lean on if need be.

He hallowed out his cheeks, sucking and licking and swirling his tongue round and round before his fingers found Dean’s sweet spot, and within seconds, he came undone, Cas happily drinking down each and every drop. 

“You just made me see stars, Cas. Actual fucking stars,” Dean murmured, eyes still closed in wonderment. “They were blurry, but they were definitely there.” And Cas laughed at that as he came to stand, gently switching their positions so that he could finally wash himself off. 

Once they were both clean and smelling of Dean’s body wash, Cas turned off the water and exited the tub, leaving Dean in there while he extracted an overly large bath towel from the nearby closet. He padded back over, wet feet sinking into the plush rug Dean had insisted they get so they wouldn’t fall when they got out of the shower. He took Dean’s hand in his and helped him out, then wrapped the towel around the both of them. He carefully dried Dean off and placed his glasses gently back on, though Dean looked dead on his feet. His eyes were still closed and he leaned into Cas, laying his head on his shoulder. 

“Tired?” Cas asked, drying off Dean’s back as he did so. 

Dean nodded and mumbled, “You wore me out,” then wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. 

Dean’s stomach chose that moment to growl, and Cas fully encased him in the towel that smelled of the little bear Dean claimed he wanted to murder in a feverish ramble once upon a time. “You sure you don’t want to eat something first before you go to sleep?” Cas inquired, gently pushing Dean’s hair out of his still closed eyes.

Dean nodded and snuggled closer to Cas, and Cas just shook his head. With gentle arms, he carefully picked Dean up, this time in a bridal style carry and took him back into the bedroom, the unmade bed a faint reminder of the time they’d just spent together. Cas pulled back the sheet and comforters (three due to winter and Dean’s constant shivering even though he claimed he was fine and not freezing, of course), and laid Dean down, carefully removing the towel from him and covering him back up with the bedding. He removed his glasses, then switched the light off that was on the nightstand.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, but Dean was already asleep.

He quietly rummaged through the dresser, and pulled out a pair of boxers, slipping them on before he went downstairs and into the kitchen to salvage whatever Dean had been cooking. He couldn’t help but take a few bites of the spaghetti Bolognese that had cooled considerably but still tasted amazing, and before he knew it, there was hardly any left in the Tupperware container he’d placed it in. He couldn’t help but feel guilty as he stared down at the meager contents that were left, but he figured maybe he could make it up to Dean by cooking breakfast in the morning. 

Placing what was left in the fridge, he turned off the lights and went back upstairs. Dean was now curled on his side, covers pulled tightly around him, so Cas slid in behind him and wrapped an arm around his thin waist, pulling him as close as he could to his chest. 

He inhaled Dean’s scent, then closed his eyes. 

God, he was going to miss this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos  
> Chapter 6 : Redbone - Childish Gambino  
> Chapter 7 : Night Moves - Bob Seger
> 
> Thank you all once again for the lovely comments and kudos! They truly are appreciated! :)


	8. Afterglow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness. I was hoping to have this chapter done by last week, but I've been stuck working six day weeks and finally managed to get two off this week. Thank you all again for your comments, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! :)

Dean stared at the numbers on the scale, disbelief on his face. 

**156**

How could this be? 

He’d somehow managed to gain three pounds in the last few days, and he immediately berated himself for his lack of self-control. 

The last few weeks had blown by, he and Cas trying to spend every waking moment they could together. Cas had taken a week’s vacation while Jody and Donna had forced Dean to take a week off, though he didn’t need much arm twisting. 

The only problem was that while he had enjoyed the time off, he also hadn’t been walking nearly as much and hated the fact that he’d been eating a little more than he knew he should have. He’d wanted to be as small as possible for Cas, but that definitely wasn’t going to happen now.

Cas was due to leave in two days, and just the thought made tears spring to his eyes. He stepped off the scale and pushed it back into the corner of the bathroom, inwardly feeling disgusted at himself. He didn’t dare chance a look in the mirror because he knew what would be looking back at him.

 _Nothing but a fat pig. You’ll never be thin enough,_ he thought bitterly, and exited the bathroom. 

He went downstairs and started to pace back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. Cas was currently at the base, wrapping up odds and ends and getting official written orders before his departure. Once he came home, they were going to go down to _Charlie’s_ for his going away party, an event Dean was definitely not looking forward to.

His stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him that he had yet to eat anything since the night before. He narrowed his eyes at the traitorous part of himself that told him he actually needed to eat – that logic was horse shit and he knew it.

But as he made his sixth trip from the couch to the kitchen table, a thought crept into the edges of his mind. 

He _was_ alone after all.

He hadn’t purged since Thanksgiving, too afraid to do it at work, and definitely too afraid to do it with Cas in the house. 

But Cas wasn’t due back for another couple of hours at the least…

He bit his bottom lip as he trekked back into the kitchen, this time heading straight for the fridge. His hand hesitated on the handle, slender fingers wrapping around the cool stainless steel. He took a deep breath and opened the freezer side, the carton of ice cream they’d purchased just days before taunting him from the top shelf, still unopened. 

He swallowed thickly, mouth starting to water as he thought about how easy it would be to demolish the thing and then just stick his fingers down his throat before he could digest any of it. The thought of being free and clear and fucking empty afterwards won out, and he grabbed the carton and fished a spoon out of the cutlery drawer. 

He threw the lid into the trash and dug into the creamy, chocolaty goodness, savoring the chunks of brownie amongst chocolate chips and caramel syrup. Bite after heavenly bite, he swallowed it down, doing his best to ignore the fullness in his stomach. 

It was all going to be gone soon after all.

Before long, the spoon hit the bottom of the carton and Dean arched a brow in surprise.

He stared at the empty container for a moment, amazed at how quickly he’d actually been able to eat all of it. His mind then crept to the package of Oreos that he’d lied and said he’d wanted but had never actually planned on eating. 

His legs were moving before he even realized what he was doing, and the next thing he knew, the package was in his hands and he was shoving the cookies into his mouth two to three at a time. 

The stomach cramps kicked in as soon as he’d finished them off, and he almost doubled over at the pain. Instead, he ran to the bathroom and jammed his right index and middle fingers down his throat. Within seconds, the cookies and ice cream came flooding back up his throat and down into the porcelain bowl underneath of him. Involuntary tears streamed down his cheeks as he continued to vomit, self-inducing the action twice, just to make sure there was nothing left. 

“Dean!” 

“Shit,” he ground out when he heard Cas calling out his name. He hurriedly flushed the toilet and stood up, not expecting darkness to snake into his vision. He leaned heavily upon the sink, heart thumping a mile a minute in his chest as he somehow managed to turn on the water, even in his mostly blind state. Cool water soon rained down onto his hands and he quickly rinsed his mouth out, wishing that he’d remembered to have left a toothbrush and toothpaste in the half bathroom. His mouth reeked of upchucked cookies and ice cream, but the taste didn’t even compare to the fear that was currently running through his veins. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, figure now standing in the doorway. 

Dean turned off the water and carefully stood up, his head still reeling in the dizzy sensation that was now casting bright spots all over his vision. 

“Hey,” he greeted with an unsure smile filled with dread. Had Cas heard him? Did he know?

“You okay? You look pale,” Cas replied, closing the distance between them and cupping his clammy cheek. “Do you feel alright?”

_Oh, thank God. He doesn’t know!_

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he replied as casually as he possibly could, and cleared his throat. His vision was finally starting to return and through the droplets of water that had accumulated on his glasses from rinsing his mouth out, he saw the look of concern on Cas’s face, guilt immediately rushing through him. He promptly took his glasses off and cleaned them off with the bottom of his shirt, effectively buying himself a little more time before he attempted to move again. 

“You sure? If you’re not feeling well, we can just skip the party tonight,” the darker haired man replied with a reassuring smile.

Dean put his glasses back on and shook his head. “I’m fine, really, and you’re not missing that party. You won’t get to see those guys again for awhile, and I’m not going to be the reason you miss it.” He cleared his throat again, fear still creeping at the back of his thoughts, unable to wonder if Cas could smell the hint of vomit on his breath. “You’re, uh, you’re home early,” he added in an attempt to change the subject. 

“Yeah, the paperwork took less time than I thought it would,” Cas stated, letting his hand finally slide off of Dean’s cheek, coming to rest on his side. 

Dean couldn’t help but tense at the placement of Cas’s hand, nervousness still pooling in his gut. 

Could Cas tell he’d gained weight? 

He swallowed thickly at the thought and eased out of Cas’s touch and proceeded to exit the bathroom. 

“I-I can fix some dinner or something before we go,” Dean offered and went into the kitchen, Cas following close behind. 

“That sounds nice. It’s going to be a long year without any of your homecooked meals,” Cas lamented, a touch of sadness in his tone as he came up behind Dean and wrapped his arms around his thin waist. 

Dean took in a breath and closed his eyes, inwardly contemplating whether or not Cas could tell that all three pounds had more than likely went straight to his gut. He glanced down at the tan hands that were resting on his stomach and tried to suck it in as much as possible. 

“I wish I could go with you,” Dean murmured in a small voice, swallowing thickly once more before letting his hands rest on top of Cas’s. 

“I wish you could too, babe. I wish you could too.” Cas gently turned Dean around to face him, holding him in place by his hips. His blue eyes were shining with tears, and upon seeing that, Dean felt tears of his own well up. He sniffled and hurriedly buried his head into Cas’s shoulder. Cas wrapped his strong arms around him and Dean sunk into him, inwardly hating how weak he suddenly felt. 

His worries about his weight were pushed aside for the moment, his brain now solely focused on the void that his husband would leave. 

He’d been trying to be strong and not let how badly Cas’s impending departure was wearing on him, but the more he thought about it, the more it hurt. Tears cascaded down his thin cheeks, dampening Cas’s t-shirt. Before long, a sob escaped his lips and he felt Cas hold him tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice low and breaking. 

“For what?” Cas asked, tone laden with sadness and concern. 

“For-for this,” Dean replied somewhat frustrated, thin fingers clutching at the fabric of Cas’s shirt. 

Cas cupped the back of his head and gently rocked him back and forth. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I didn’t –” Dean cut himself short, not wanting to admit to the truth. He bit down on his bottom lip, feeling another sob wanting to escape. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this in front of Cas, but his body was betraying him and he hated it. 

“You didn’t what?” Cas prodded, gently carding his fingers through the fine hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. 

Dean sucked in a breath, trying to force the tears from continuing to escape from his eyes, but it was no use. They streamed steadily down, leaving paths of saltine rivers in their wake. 

“Didn’t want…you to see me like this,” Dean finally confessed.

Cas gently pulled away from him, tan hands raising up to cup his tear-stained cheeks. His brilliant blue eyes shined with unshed tears as he framed Dean’s thin face with his hands, carefully swiping away each new tear that fell with the pads of his thumbs. 

“Like you said, we’ll make it through this, one day at a time. Eventually, the year will be up, and I’ll get to come back to you. You’ll get so sick of me, you’ll probably wish I had stayed gone,” Cas joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, but the words made Dean immediately shake his head in response.

“I could never get sick of you,” he choked out, bottom lip quivering in earnest, eyes glimmering with truth. 

The tiniest of smiles turned Cas’s lips upwards as he continued to wipe away stray tears. 

“What?” Dean asked, eyes still a bright green and bathed in sadness.

“I just love you is all,” Cas answered simply and pulled Dean back into his embrace. 

“I love you too,” Dean’s voice was so low it was almost a whisper, and he buried his head into his shoulder once again, not wanting to let go.

And he didn’t, at least, not for a while anyway.

Eventually, he’d managed to calm down enough to make them both something to eat, though he barely touched his food. His mind was too consumed with exactly how many calories was in the sauce of the fettuccine alfredo, and how he really didn’t need that much of it, even if it would be the only thing he’d eat that day.

All too soon, the time came to leave for the party. 

Winter was in full force, the sky already dark at five o’clock in the evening. It had snowed a couple of inches a few days previous, and the remnants of that storm still littered the ground. 

Their shoes crunched across the front yard as they made the short trek to Cas’s jeep, and Dean was shivering almost uncontrollably as he climbed up and into it. He quickly put his hands in front of the vents, thankful that Cas had used the remote start to get it warmed up beforehand. 

He was fucking _freezing_.

“Bet you’re not going to miss this weather,” Dean commented as his teeth chattered in his mouth. He clenched his jaw shut in an attempt to curtail the involuntary movement, though it did little to help. 

“I’m not exactly looking forward to the opposite of it though either,” Cas replied as he pulled out of the driveway and out onto the street. “The average temperature there during the summer is over a hundred degrees.”

“I suppose you can only take so much off,” Dean joked flirtatiously with a raised brow, and glanced over at Cas. 

“Oh, don’t you start that now. We _just_ left,” Cas chided, though there was a smile on his face. 

“What?” Dean shrugged innocently. “I was just stating a fact.”

“Uh huh. Sure you were,” Cas played along, rolling his eyes as he turned down the street that led to _Charlie’s_.

Cas parked across the street from the bar, all the spaces in front of it having already been taken. Being ever the gentlemen, Cas hurriedly exited the jeep first and opened the car door for him. Dean couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. 

“And I'm the one that’s starting stuff,” Dean commented coyly, accepting Cas’s hand as he hopped out of the vehicle. He slipped a bit on some of the snow, almost falling face first to the ground, but Cas’s strong grasp caught him before the face plant could take place. 

“You okay there?” Cas asked, still holding onto him tightly.

Dean shook his head and started to chuckle at himself. “I’m fine, but that was definitely a close one. You’re my hero,” he mocked, his voice a few octaves higher than normal and the concerned expression eased off of Cas’s visage as he slid his arm around Dean’s waist and led them across the street and into the bar.

A song Dean didn’t recognize was playing on the radio as they entered. The place was crowded; it looked as though damn near everyone Cas worked with had showed up. There was even a giant banner hung up behind the bar that read, **“CONGRATS SENIOR CHIEF NOVAK”**.

Gadreel was the first to spot them, and waved them over to the table that he was currently sharing with Gabriel and Michael. Dean hadn’t seen them since Gad’s wedding, and he watched as the expression on their faces changed when he took off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair. He immediately pulled his flannel tighter around his thin frame, desperately hoping to hide as much of himself as he could.

“Cas! Dean! Welcome!” Gad greeted them, immediately placing beers in both of their hands. 

Dean nodded in thanks and forced a polite smile on his face as he sat down. Anxiety started to dig its ugly claws into his veins, and he could feel his heart start to beat faster.

 _You can do this_ he told himself but he was anything but confident. He took a sip from the beer, hand shaking a little as he sat the bottle back down on the table. 

“So, as you can see,” Gad said, gesturing towards their surroundings, “Pretty much the entire base came tonight. Hell, even Master Chief Shurley showed up.” 

“You’re a pretty popular guy here, Senior Chief Novak,” Gabriel commented, raising his beer at Cas though Dean didn’t miss the look the smaller man gave him. It was as though Dean were someone he’d seen before but couldn’t place where. 

“I don’t know about all that, but thank you nonetheless,” Cas replied and took a drink of his beer. “I do appreciate this tonight, it means a lot.”

“Well, we’re gonna miss you, that’s for sure,” Gad stated with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Dean knew that out of all the men Cas served with, he seemed to be closest to Gad. Gad was a bit more extraverted than Cas, but they got along well. “You two have any plans for tomorrow? I know this has to be hard.”

Dean shared a look with Cas, both smiling albeit sadly at one another as Cas broke eye contact and shook his head. “I think we’re just going to spend the day together around the house,” Cas replied, reaching underneath the table to place his hand on Dean’s knee. It’s warmth was a grounding presence that pulled Dean out of the depths of his tortured thoughts. He put his hand on top of Cas’s and interlocked their fingers together, the gesture slowly forcing the anxiousness he was feeling to creep away.

“So, uh, you look different,” Gabriel blurted out, his comment followed by an immediate yelp of pain as he was so obviously and politely _nudged_ by Gad’s boot under the table. 

And just as fast as it had went away, the anxiety rushed right back like a tidal wave trying to pull him under. 

“And you still look like a hobbit,” Dean shot back, the jibe earning a round of laughter around the table. 

“You do kind of look like a hobbit,” Michael observed, giving him a once over. “I bet your tiny little feet are probably hairy too, aren’t they?” 

The tension eased a bit after that, but Dean could still feel the sideways glances everyone shot him throughout the night. He did his best to ignore it, but still hated the uncomfortable feeling that hung around the back of his mind like a fog covering a city.

Eventually, sitting led to standing and somewhere along the way, Dean found himself on the other side of a conversation with Cas’s soon to be former boss. The man had obviously had more than a few drinks, and had confessed to Dean that he’d really wanted to be a writer himself, having drafted pages of a horror themed series featuring two brothers that hunted monsters. Dean had mostly nodded politely and thrown in his two cents when his bladder saved him from anymore of the cringe worthy conversation. 

He excused himself from the inebriated man as courteously as he could, and made his way towards the bathroom. He opened the door only to pause mid-way when he heard Gad and Gabriel’s voices coming from inside of it. 

“You think he’s sick?” he heard Gabriel ask, tone curious.

“Nah, Cas wouldn’t leave him if that were the case,” Gad responded back as he washed his hands.

_Are they talking about me?_

“What else would cause a person to lose so much weight? I mean, he wasn’t _that_ big, but now he kind of looks like a twig,” Gabriel commented off-handedly. 

“I honestly don’t think it’s any of our business, and as long as they’re both happy with each other, that’s all that really matters,” Gad stated, finality in his tone.

“You’re not the least bit curious though?” Gabriel wondered, tearing off a paper towel from the dispenser and drying his hands.

“No, because as I just said, it’s none of our business. Besides, Anna lost a bunch of weight like that before we got married. Maybe he’s just upset that Cas is being deployed.”

“She didn’t lose _that_ much weight,” Gabriel shot back, and Dean chose that moment to push the door open all the way and act as though he hadn’t heard a thing. He forced a tight smile on his face and nodded at them as he passed. He didn’t miss the look they exchanged with each other before they returned the gesture and exited the bathroom. 

He relieved himself and then washed his hands, glancing in the mirror as he did so. His eyes narrowed as he studied his face. Sure, maybe it was a little bit thinner, but Gabriel was exaggerating. He _had_ to have been. 

_I definitely don’t look like a twig_ , he thought as his gaze slipped to his stomach. His Captain America t-shirt was a little loose, but he could still make out his rounded stomach poking over his jeans. He pinched at the skin there, not realizing that there wasn’t exactly much to pinch in the first place, if anything. 

_Disgusting. Fucking disgusting._

He grumbled at himself and shook his head. It was far too late to do anything about his gut for Cas now. It would definitely be gone by the time Cas came back though. He was going to make sure of that. 

He exited the bathroom and went in search of Cas. Luckily, it didn’t take long to find him. He was in Dean’s former spot at the bar, smiling politely and patiently listening to Master Chief Shurley. 

“I served over there for a period of time, and let me tell you, it’s hot! Like hell!” And the man giggled, actually _giggled_ at his own words. 

“Hey,” Dean greeted, lips close to Cas’s ear as he came to stand by him. “Should we maybe take him home?” he asked, gesturing towards the drunken man.

“Probably a good idea,” Cas agreed with a nod. “Master Chi—”

“Call me Chuck, Castiel. It’s Chuck for the night,” the Master Chief stated with a crooked grin, clapping him on the shoulder as he came to stand, albeit swaying badly. Cas quickly steadied the smaller man, and threw an apologetic smile Dean’s way. 

Gadreel and Gabriel chose that moment to approach, both unable to stop the chuckles from escaping their lips as they saw the state that the Master Chief was in. 

“I think we’re going to call it a night,” Cas informed them, one arm still keeping the Master Chief on his feet. 

“We’ll get him home,” Gad stated, taking Cas’s place at Shurley’s side. “You two go home. Enjoy your time together.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble,” Cas offered, but Gad shook his head. 

“We got this,” he said with a nod and an awkward smile. 

Dean couldn’t help but be slightly relieved, but at the same time, filled with dread. He didn’t want the night to end because that meant having only one more day with Cas, and driving the other man home would have extended it just a little longer. 

“Aright, well, guys I really can’t thank you enough for tonight. I mean it,” Cas said with a nod, and cleared his throat. Dean could see his eyes begin to water, and could feel his doing the same. 

“We’ll be there at the airport on Monday,” Gad affirmed, voice shaking slightly.

“Yeah, gotta make sure you see our beautiful faces one last time before you hit the road,” Gabriel chimed in with a sad grin.

“Monday at eleven hundred hours it is then. See you guys,” Cas said with a wave and grabbed their coats. 

“Bye you guys, drive safe!” Gad returned.

Dean could tell Cas was just as reluctant as he was to leave, but the night had to come to an end sooner or later. 

They were both quiet as they exited the bar and made their way across the street to Cas’s jeep. Dean shivered as the chilly January air hit him, hating the involuntary tremors that were wracking his thin frame. The temperature had dropped in the five hours they’d been there, at least by ten degrees. 

Cas turned the heat on full blast as he started it up, glancing apologetically at Dean once again. 

“What?” Dean asked, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to generate some heat.

“I’m sorry if things were…weird tonight,” Cas said. “Gabriel…well, he just –”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said with a shake of his head and a shrug. “Not everyone is going to understand. I don’t expect them too.” He couldn’t help but think of the conversation he’d walked in on not less than thirty minutes before. 

Cas let out a breath and his shoulders loosened, whatever tension he’d been feeling seeping away with Dean’s words. 

Dean had considered telling him what he overheard but thought better about it. Cas seemed content for now, and that was all that really mattered to him.

It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of their house, and Dean reluctantly got out of the jeep and followed Cas inside. 

Once they’d both discarded their coats and shoes, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, drawing him close. “Are you tired?” he asked, raising one hand up to gently cup Dean’s cheek.

Dean shook his head in response. “Not really.” 

Cas nodded and let his hand stray back down to Dean’s waist. “How about you head upstairs and start a bath, and I’ll meet you up there?”

Dean stared at him unsurely for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he agreed and Cas planted a quick kiss on his lips before disappearing into the kitchen. 

Dean quietly padded up the stairs and into the bathroom, flipping the light on as he went over to the tub. He turned the water on, running it more hot than cold and plugged the drain. He wasn’t quite sure what Cas was up to until the dark-haired man joined him, a bottle of wine and two glasses in one hand and a lighter in the other. 

“Figured we could both relax a little before…you know,” Cas explained, and Dean nodded in understanding. 

He watched as Cas made quick work of lighting the few candles that were scattered around the small space, then filled the two glasses up that he’d set down on the sink counter. Cas lifted one of the glasses up, and Dean accepted it. He hadn’t consumed more than three hundred calories that day, and hesitantly convinced himself that the two hundred and fifty that were currently in the glass he’d taken would be okay. 

He’d find a way to work them off the next day.

“To us,” Cas said and raised his glass to Dean.

“To us,” Dean repeated with a sad smile, tapping his glass against Cas’s, then took a sip. It was sweet but not overly so. Cas followed suit and took a drink from his as well. He leaned down, setting his glass on the edge of the tub before standing back up. His blue eyes were glimmering as he gently took Dean’s glass from his hand and set it next to his. 

“I love you,” he said, voice almost a whisper as he cupped Dean’s cheek. 

Dean closed his eyes, placing his still cold fingers on top of Cas’s. “I love you too,” he returned, voice low and almost breaking. He took a deep breath and inwardly told himself that now was not the time to cry, but his body betrayed him and a stray tear rolled down his cheek. 

He felt Cas shift and opened his eyes in time to see him reach over and turn off the light. They were now both bathed in candlelight, and Dean felt another tear trickle down his cheek. 

“It’ll be okay,” Cas whispered in his ear, and piece by piece, he began to remove Dean’s clothing. 

“It won’t be okay until your back,” Dean returned, taking in a breath as Cas pulled off his t-shirt, the cool air more than evident as it hit his skin, forcing goosebumps to arise on his pale flesh.

“Well, I’m not gone yet,” Cas stated, and pulled off his own shirt, revealing a very firm, very fit chest. Dean’s hands wandered to it immediately as Cas managed to get them both out of the rest of their clothes. 

Once there was nothing left between them but bare skin, Cas gently guided Dean over to the tub, stepping in first then pulling Dean down to rest his back on his chest. Dean melted into him, laying his head back onto Cas’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, soaking up the warmth from Cas and the water. He felt Cas wrap an arm around his waist and he leaned back further into him, placing his hand atop Cas’s. 

“Can we just stay like this? Forever?” he asked, and Cas hummed behind him.

“It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” 

“Yeah, yeah it would,” Dean murmured, taking a sip of the wine as Cas lifted the glass to his lips, then took one for himself. 

“Guess we’ll just have to settle for tonight,” Cas lamented sadly. 

“Guess so,” Dean mumbled with a sigh, shifting slightly when Cas wrapped his other arm around him. 

They settled in, neither moving unless it was to get a drink of the wine. Time eventually passed and the water cooled, forcing them from the intimacy that they shared. They didn’t make love that night, instead choosing to just hold each other, both falling into a light doze.

The next day was spent double and triple checking that Cas had packed everything that he’d need. They’d managed to enjoy as much of each other’s company as they possibly could, with Cas making breakfast and Dean making him lunch and dinner. 

All too soon, the alarm was waking them up Monday morning, but neither Dean nor Cas had wanted to move from the cocoon they’d transformed their mess of blankets and comforters into. 

With reluctance, they soon found themselves loading up the Impala with Cas’s luggage, barely managing to fit everything in.

Dean’s hands shook the entire drive to the airport. He’d done everything he could to steel himself for the goodbye, but nothing could compare to the emptiness that was consuming him as he found himself watching Cas board the plane. His chest ached as tears streamed down his cheeks, and he stayed until the plane departed, a piece of his soul flying away as well.

It was going to be a long year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos  
> Chapter 6 : Redbone - Childish Gambino  
> Chapter 7 : Night Moves - Bob Seger  
> Chapter 8 : Afterglow - INXS
> 
> Also, the song playing at the bar was Loud Places by Jamie xx
> 
> Thank you all once again for the lovely comments and kudos! They truly are appreciated! :)


	9. She Wants To Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post. Been busier than usual. I'd just like to take a minute and thank every single one of you who have commented or have left kudos. They are greatly appreciated. :)

The windshield wipers clicked back and forth, back and forth, removing the small snowflakes only for them to be replaced with more. Jody sighed and turned the heat up as high as it would go. 

_Good old Midwest weather_ she thought as the white powder floated down steadily from the gray sky above. 

It felt like once the snow had started, it had never ended, the ground endlessly covered in never ending white.

Traffic was slow as it usually was on Monday mornings, and she could feel herself growing ever exasperated at the idiocy that showcased itself in the form of inexperienced drivers. Driving in a couple of inches of snow was nothing to her, having been born and raised in South Dakota where winters never seemed to end. 

She edged forward a few feet, relief flooding through her when all the cars in front decided to turn, leaving her an empty road to finally set a good pace on. She’d had an early doctor’s appointment that morning, just a check up to make sure her leg was doing okay, which thankfully, it was. 

She was still a few good miles away from work when she happened to spot one of her employees with their hands shoved deep into the pockets of their black jacket trudging down the street with a gray backpack slung over one shoulder. She quickly slowed down and pulled over, rolling down the window as he got near.

“Young man, what do you think you’re doing?” she called out the window, brow lowering as Dean stopped and stared at her blankly for a moment before reluctantly removing the headphones from his ears, green eyes coming to life as he finally realized he was being spoken to. 

“Hey, Jody,” he said sheepishly, face now reddening as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder, and she questioned whether it was from the chill in the air or embarrassment. 

“It’s a little too cold out to be walking to work, don’t you think?” she asked, and when he shrugged noncommittally, she reached over and pushed open the door, not leaving him any room to say no to a ride. She watched as he sighed, his breath spiraling out in front of him as he begrudgingly accepted her offer and got into the car, setting the backpack on the floorboard in between his feet. 

Silence drifted between them as she pulled away from the curb and back onto the road. 

“Seatbelt,” she reminded after a few minutes, and felt a little satisfaction when she heard him shift and it click into place. “So…any reason why you decided to forgo driving?”

She glanced at him and caught the tail end of another shrug. “Just enjoying the weather, I guess,” he mumbled and looked like a teenager getting scolded by their mother. 

“It’s –” she cut herself off, looking at the thermometer on her dash – “Twenty-two degrees out right now. A bit too cold to be _enjoying_ the weather,” she said, a look of suspicion now crossing her face. 

He didn’t indulge her with a response, instead choosing to jam his pale hands back into the pockets of his coat and remain silent. 

A brow raised as she took note of the scratches on his knuckles before they disappeared into the shelter of his jacket, curiosity now clamoring at her brain. 

He’d been off for the last two days, but didn’t look any better than he did beforehand, she noticed. There were still dark circles under his eyes, shadowed beneath his glasses. And somehow, and she wasn’t exactly sure how, but he looked even thinner, if that were at all possible. The hollows of his cheeks were deeper, and she couldn’t help but feel worry at the young man that sat beside her. 

She knew that he’d been struggling ever since his husband had been deployed. 

He’d show up to work early and leave late, even offering to work on his days off; and it wasn’t though they didn’t mind paying him over time, but it was clear that he was working himself into the ground, and neither her nor Donna could live with that. It had been a little over a month since Castiel had been deployed, and Dean was definitely worse for wear. 

She’d never had any children of her own, but her motherly instincts never failed when it came to Dean, or Claire and Jack, for that matter. And her radar was endlessly going off when it came to Dean nowadays. 

He’d always had a very easy-going personality, it being one of the main reasons why she’d hired him in the first place three years previous. But lately, he’d been quiet and withdrawn, nary speaking a word to anyone except for customers. She knew how hard it was to be separated from Donna, but they’d never been apart for longer than a week or two at a time. It was clear that he was not taking being by himself very well at all.

The weight loss nagged at her, though she’d been worried about that even before Castiel had departed. It had begun last summer and didn’t seem like it was ending any time soon. She’d questioned him about it a few times, but in his typical Dean Winchester _there’s nothing wrong with me ever_ fashion, he’d just shrugged it off, just as he had any other problems. 

It was hard to tell just how much weight he’d lost, since it was winter, and he seemed to have at least three layers on at any given time now. If she’d had to wager a guess though, she suspected he’d dropped at least thirty to forty pounds, but the more she thought about it, it was probably more. 

“How about we stop and get a little something to eat? I’m starving,” she stated and pulled into the nearest drive through. She didn’t much care for McDonald’s, but she’d make do. 

Apparently, Dean was too smart for his own good though because when she asked what he wanted, he just shook his head and muttered, “I already ate, thanks though.”

She couldn’t help how she rolled her eyes at that, hating the fact that she couldn’t bring herself to believe him. 

She ordered an extra Egg McMuffin anyway, and it was his turn to roll his eyes at her when she shoved the small bag onto his lap, clearly annoyed at the gesture. 

“You can save it for later, just in case,” she stated, and pulled back onto the main road, thankful for the thinning traffic. Her nerves could only take so much so early.

And Dean was clearly trying her last one.

“So, get anymore of that book written?” she inquired, making a second attempt to pull Dean out from whatever rock his brain had crawled under. 

“A few pages,” he replied noncommittally, gaze never straying from what was outside the passenger side window. 

His birthday had been a few weeks before, and from what she had gathered from their mostly one-sided conversations as of late, his husband had gifted him with an old-fashioned typewriter in hopes of giving him the inspiration to write again. He’d had tears in his eyes when he’d told her about it, so she’d tried not to bring it up too much, but still wanted to encourage him at the same time. He had let her read some of the short stories he’d written in the past, and she couldn’t understand why’d he stopped writing. He was quite talented, that was for sure. 

“Maybe I could read it sometime,” she offered as she pulled into the parking lot of the bookstore. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he answered, reaching for the door handle before she was even fully parked. 

“Hold it,” she ordered as the car stilled, though the engine was still running, granting them a warm aired reprieve before they ventured out into the cold. 

He paused, hand gradually slipping back into his pocket. He stared straight ahead, still not so much as sparing her a glance. 

“Dean, I know that things have been hard –”

He cut her off, voice sounded tired and worn. “Jody, please, I’m fine.”

“No, Dean, you’re not, and anyone with two working eyes can see that. Look, I know I’m just your boss and not your mother –”

“Jody –”

“Let me finish,” she cut him off, a slight edge to her tone. God, the man could be so stubborn sometimes. Even more so than herself. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, and I know it has to be hard, but give yourself a break sometime, kiddo. Castiel isn’t the only one who cares about you. Everyone here,” she said, gesturing towards the bookstore, “cares too. And if you need to talk, you can come to me any time. I’m just as good at listening as I am running my mouth.” She paused, sending a concerned look his way. 

After a few minutes of silence, he nodded and finally made eye contact. His eyes were watery, and she felt something give in her heart at the sight. 

“You’re not alone in this, and you are always welcome at our house if you ever get lonely, okay?” she added, placing her hand on his knee and giving it a small squeeze. 

“Y-yeah,” he nodded and cleared his throat, eyes darting away. “Thanks, Jody,” he said, and offered her a small smile. His gaze found his way back to her, and it wasn’t as watery before but there was still pain in his eyes. 

That was clear as day.

“I mean it,” she stated, hand moving to the keys but hesitating to shut the car off. 

“I know,” he replied, matter-of-factly and got out of the car. 

She sighed and shook her head. “I sure hope so,” she muttered to herself, turning the car off and removing her keys from the ignition. She grabbed the greasy McDonald’s bag and her purse and got out. “Good Lord it’s colder than a witch’s tit,” she grumbled as she entered the store, and that phrase actually earned her a quiet chuckle from Dean who was currently turning up the thermostat. “It’s true,” she murmured and made her way towards the small break room. She set the McDonald’s bag down on the table, and her purse on top of the refrigerator. She shrugged off her coat and hung it up on the coat rack, then set about the task of making the largest pot of coffee possible. She was probably going to go through a gallon of the stuff today.

And that wasn’t even counting what her customers were going to drink. Or Dean, for that matter. The kid seemed to live off the stuff as well, only he took it black, which she thought was a travesty. 

“I turned it up to 75, is that okay?” he asked as he took of his jacket and hung it up next to hers. 

“Hell, you can turn it up a little more if you want. The hot flashes haven’t quite kicked in just yet,” and those words earned her a groan and retreating footsteps. She couldn’t help but laugh at that and turned on the pot. She checked her watch and seeing that they still had a good forty-five minutes before the store opened, sat down and dug into the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. 

Dean came back in the room a few minutes later but didn’t sit down. He placed a small, covered bowl into the small fridge, then went over to the counter where the coffee pot was and grabbed a mug out of the cabinet that was above the sink, choosing a red one with a yellow lightning bolt on it. 

“What’s the name of that superhero again? The Clash? The Smash?” she asked, knowing it had to be one of the two.

Dean stared at her incredulously for a moment with a raised brow before stating, “The Flash.”

“That’s it!” she exclaimed. She had _almost_ gotten it, and that was all that really mattered. “Hey, I was close,” she added as she took the last bite of her sandwich, and that earned a huff from Dean. "I at least know who Batman is.”

“Everyone knows who Batman is,” Dean countered, and poured himself a cup of coffee even though the pot wasn’t finished making yet. A few drops sizzled on the heated plate before he put the glass pot back on it. 

“I know who Superman is too,” she argued, rinsing out the carafes that they used for their customers. 

“So does Mrs. Baker,” he shot back. Mrs. Baker was one of their regulars who came in every Monday and Thursday at precisely eleven o’clock and had a massive crush on Dean. She was also 73.

“You know what, young man?” she started, only to get cut off by a text notification going off on her phone. It was from Claire.

**Sorry won’t be able to make in today. Think I have the flu**

“If the flu counts as being hung over from drinking too much last night, then I’m sure you do,” Jody muttered under her breath and shoved the phone back into her pants pocket. 

“What’s up?” Dean asked, blowing on the coffee before taking a sip.

“Oh, same old, same old. Claire just texted me to let me know that she won’t be able to close tonight.”

“I’ll do it,” Dean offered, and swallowed down nearly half the cup. 

Jody could feel her lips pursing to one side, unable to hide the disdain she felt at his offer. “I appreciate that, but I’m sure Donna will be able to do it.”

“Jody, you know as well as I do that Monday nights are usually slow anyway. I got this,” Dean stated, and she gaped at him, shocked that he’d actually spoken more than two words to her. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s no big deal, really,” he stated and knocked back the rest of the coffee. He set his mug on the counter and disappeared out of the room. 

“Dean!” she called out after him, following him into the main room of the bookstore when he didn’t reply. He was behind the counter, setting up the registers for the day. “Dean,” she repeated in softer tone as she approached him. 

“What?” he asked, glancing up as he typed in the password to the system. 

She studied him for a moment, seeing that he indeed had on at least three layers of clothing. Aside from the black hoodie he was sporting, she could also make out the collar of a flannel shirt peaking above the hoodie’s neckline and a t-shirt under that. His jeans were baggy as usual, and she knew that they had definitely fit him at some point in time. 

“Jody?” he inquired, his worried tone breaking her from her thoughts. 

“I’ll let you take Claire’s shift on one condition,” she stated, hoping that she wasn’t pushing too far.

“Okay, shoot,” he said, raising his head up from the screen. His glasses had slipped down his nose, and as he pushed them up, she noticed that his watch had slid down his arm along with his sleeve, revealing a rather thin looking wrist. 

“Come to dinner at our house tomorrow night. Jack and Claire are scheduled to close anyway. Deal?” she asked, not missing the way his jaw tightened at the mention of dinner or the look – and she knew fear when she saw it – the look of fear that flashed across his eyes before he slowly nodded in acceptance. 

“Sure, why not,” he replied, but there wasn’t an ounce of happiness in his tone. He cleared his throat and went back to making sure the registers were starting up correctly.

“Great,” she said with a smile. “There will be something delicious waiting for you at approximately six o’clock tomorrow evening.”

“Sounds great,” he muttered distractedly as he typed in a few things on the screen and there was a beeping as both registers became fully operational. She could tell he was avoiding her gaze, but still took it as a win regardless. 

“Ok-ay, well, I’m going to finish getting the coffee ready, and then I’ve got a few phone calls to make so I’ll probably be stuck in the office for a bit.”

“Okay,” he replied, glancing at her with a neutral expression before placing a forced smile on his lips. 

She stared at him for a moment as he went back to straightening up things on the counter before she retreated back to the break area. The coffee pot had finally finished the first brew, so she carefully poured herself a cup in her **Boss Lady** mug before pouring the rest into the caffeinated carafe. She started a second pot with decaf in it, knowing that only half of it would probably even get consumed, but she aimed to please as many customers as she could and out of the many, there were a few who actually enjoyed it. How, she didn’t understand, but still made it for them, nonetheless. 

She was jarred from her thoughts when Dean came back into the small room to fetch the carafe and cups for their customers. He pulled the same forced smile when they made eye contact but remained silent as he went back into the main room. 

Jody sighed in his wake, hoping against hope that she’d be able to get through to him somehow. It was as though he was completely oblivious to the fact that people worried or cared about him. She didn’t know too much about his familial background, just that he had a little brother that he was quite proud of but didn’t get to see often since he was going to college in California and studying to be a lawyer. He never spoke of his parents, which meant they had either passed or didn’t have a speaking relationship. She never prodded too much, just figured that if he ever did say, he would do it of his own accord and not because he was pushed into doing so.

Once the decaf was done, she filled the second carafe and took it out to the main room and set it on the table they had set up for customers to enjoy as they browsed. She looked around for Dean and found him straightening up the comic book section. She hesitated for a minute, but then went over to him when she was struck with an idea. 

“So, I was thinking…maybe you could make a list of some titles that we don't carry that you think might be popular and could start to. How's that sound?” she asked, hoping it would put some type of spark back into his eyes. Maybe just keeping him busy would help out some, she hoped.

He looked up at her, an unsure expression on his thin visage. “Really? Yeah, I mean, I can do that,” he replied with a nod and a small smile. 

She couldn’t help but smile in return at the hint of enthusiasm that was voiced in his tone. “I'll be in the office if you need me,” she said as she went over to the door and flipped the sign from closed to open. 

“Okay,” he replied and continued to straighten things up. She went back over to the comic section and grabbed a copy of _The Flash_ and disappeared back into the office, the gesture earning another quiet chuckle from Dean.

In between phone calls with a supplier and two booking agents, she flipped through the comic, figuring she might as well try to understand what made the books so appealing to Dean and the majority of her younger customers. By the time she was done with the issue, she had a sense of why Dean liked him so much.

She came out of the office a few hours later, thankful to have wrapped up all her usual Monday morning routines. She went to go start another pot of coffee, but Dean had already beat her to the punch. It was just finishing up as she walked in. She refilled her mug, and almost jumped out of her skin when she glanced over her shoulder, Dean seeming to appear out of nowhere.

“Oh, good Lord, you scared me!” she exclaimed, holding a hand to her gray sweater-covered heart and Dean immediately looked guilty. “I might as well get a new name tag made for you that says Barry Allen on it,” and Dean's eyes brightened at that. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but that would be pretty cool,” he said, flashing her a small but genuine smile. 

“I suppose that Barry's a pretty cool guy. He does make some bad decisions sometimes though,” she said offhandedly as she took the empty carafe from him and filled it up. 

“Doesn't everyone?” Dean shrugged.

“True,” Jody said with a nod, “But, he tries to do too much on his own and doesn’t realize that he has other people there for him that can help him out if he needs them. He's just too stubborn for his own good to ask. Kind of like someone I know…”

“Hmm, wonder who that could be,” Dean said with that tight smile that Jody wished would be real and actually reach his eyes.

“That’s a good question,” Jody played along, placing her finger to her lips as she handed Dean the refilled carafe with her other hand. “I wonder.”

“Well, Jack _is_ a pretty big Flash fan,” Dean mentioned, and excited the room. 

Jody sighed exasperatedly at his response. “You know damn well who I'm talking about!” she called out but received no response. “Typical,” she muttered and added more sugar to her coffee. After drinking the majority of the cup, she went back out to the main room. 

There were a few customers milling about, though no one she recognized as one of their regulars. She glanced out the window and saw that the snow had stopped falling, making her hopeful that the lack of white powder on the ground would bring in more business. 

The bells on the door decided to jingle at that very moment, and she smiled in greeting as Mrs. Baker came in. “Is it eleven already? How are you doing today, my dear?” Jody asked. 

The woman was on the younger side of elderly and was able to get around quite well without any assistance. Her white hair was short and perfectly coifed, and she had on a heavy purple coat with light pink slacks. 

“I’m doing well, thank you,” she replied with a bright grin, though her eyes were already roaming around the store in search of Dean. “And you?”

Jody couldn’t help but snicker at that. “I’m pretty good myself, thanks. I think Dean's straightening up the non-fiction section right now,” she added, unable to help herself. 

“Is he now? Well, I do enjoy little Joan Didion every now and then,” Mrs. Baker said, smile growing just a touch wider. 

“Let's go find him, shall we?” Jody asked, interlocking her arm with the other woman's. Mrs. Baker had been coming into the bookstore for years, but even more so after Dean had been hired. Dean took her crush in stride and always flirted back, even though she knew his heart was taken. 

“Hello, Dean,” the older woman greeted as they approached. Dean looked up from the books he was placing in alphabetical order and smiled that small, tight smile in return.

“Hey, Mrs. Baker, how are you doing today?” he asked, pausing what he was doing to give her his full attention. He glanced at Jody and she only smiled in return as she eased away from Mrs. Baker so the older woman could hug him. 

“I’m doing very well now that I get to see you,” she replied, reluctant to let go of him and winking at Jody who couldn’t help but grin wider in return. 

“And I can say the same,” Dean said, forced smiled held firmly in place as he slowly backed away from her as her hand slid all the way down to the small of his back. 

“Busy morning?” she asked, and he shook his head in response. “Have you been getting enough rest?” she asked after a moment of studying his face, concern now marring her aged brow. “You’re looking kind of thin…”

_Good, I’m not the only one…_ Jody couldn’t help but think. 

“As much as I appreciate the concern, Mrs. Baker, I’m fine,” Dean stated, smile faltering a bit as he took another step back from her just out of her reach.

“I make a mean mushroom risotto,” she informed him, stepping forward and elbowing him gently in the side. “You can try it whenever you like,” she added, toothy grin on her thin lips.

Dean chuckled lightly. “I may very well take you up on that offer sometime. In the meantime though…we did just get in that new title you were asking about by Louise Aronson,” he said, holding up the book. 

“I’ve heard it's quite a hoot!” she laughed, and took the book from him, making sure to brush her fingers along his in the process. 

He laughed, a bit uncomfortably, and took another small step back. “I’m sure it is,” he agreed, and Jody figured it would be a good time to guide Mrs. Baker away from him. He was starting to look like an animal backed into a corner, and that didn’t sit well with her. 

“Could I interest you in some tea? I still have your favorite, the blackberry mint, right?” Jody inquired, heading back towards the front of the store. 

“That would be lovely,” Mrs. Baker said with a nod. “See you later, Dean,” she added and waved at him.

“Take it easy, Mrs. Baker,” he said, and Jody watched his shoulders deflate in relief as she led Mrs. Baker to the beverage stand. 

“Is he okay?” Mrs. Baker asked in a hushed tone when they were out of Dean’s reach of hearing. 

Jody hesitated before answering. “He's had his ups and downs since his husband's been deployed. It's definitely been hard on him,” she explained as she poured hot water into a cup.

“Poor thing. I remember when my Thomas, God rest his soul,” she said, raising her hand up to her heart, “was deployed in Vietnam. I had anxiety through the roof so I can imagine what he's going through.”

“Yeah, but he’s tough. He'll get through it,” Jody said with a smile though there was worry in her eyes when she glanced at Dean. 

_Hopefully_ , she couldn’t help but think as she watched him lean over, the outline of his ribs visible through all the layers he was wearing. 

“Maybe I should start stopping in more. Bring some treats or something,” Mrs. Baker offered as she took a sip of the tea Jody had handed her. 

Even though she had a hunch he probably wouldn’t actually eat any of it, she smiled and returned, “I think he'd love that.”

“Does he work tomorrow? If so, I’ll make sure to stop by with my double fudge brownies,” she said with a grin.

“He most certainly does,” Jody replied as she wiped off a few stray specks of sugar from the table. 

“Good, I’ll be back tomorrow then.” She took the book that Dean had handed her and held it out to Jody. “I’ll get that tomorrow, use it as an excuse to come back,” she explained with a wink and a chuckle. 

“I’ll keep it safe behind the counter for you,” Jody returned. “Drive safe out there now.”

“I will. Bye, Dean!” she called out before she slipped out the door. 

Jody watched as Dean waved in return, the smile quickly disappearing from his face as soon as he thought no one was looking. It was replaced with a neutral expression, as though he had checked out from the rest of the world and went into his own. 

She frowned but more people were starting to filter in and ask questions, forcing her worries temporarily to the background. Before she knew it, it was a little after one thirty, and the store had finally quieted down enough that she decided Dean needed to break for lunch. 

“Hey,” she said, walking up to him as he finished checking out the only customer in the store. “Why don’t you take a thirty, and I’ll manage this out here for awhile, okay?” 

He looked hesitant but nodded. “If it gets busy, just let me know.”

“You got it, kiddo.” She watched as he disappeared into the break room, immediately trying to think of an excuse to go in there without making it look obvious that she was trying to check up on him. She glanced at the coffee carafes and made her decision. After a few minutes, she picked up the one that was still half-way filled with regular coffee and went in there, hoping she didn’t look as nosy as she felt.

Dean was sitting at the table, the small bowl he had put in the fridge earlier in front of him, still more than half full of…salad?

Jody almost dropped the carafe, trying desperately to school the look of shock on her face into one of neutrality. 

Thankfully, he was engrossed in the pages of a book, using one hand to hold down the page he was reading while the other had a fork in it.

“Which one has caught your attention now?” she asked nonchalantly as she started a fresh pot of coffee, taking note that it appeared he hadn’t used any dressing on it whatsoever. She still couldn’t believe her eyes or the notion that Dean Winchester was actually sitting in front of her eating a salad.

He _hated_ salads and had always taken any opportunity he could in the past to remind her – and anyone else for that matter who had the audacity of eating one in front of him – of that fact. And now he was sitting here in front of her doing just that.

There was _definitely_ something wrong with him.

Either that, or the world was coming to and end, but Jody was pretty positive it was the former.

“Hmmm? Oh, _The Terror_ ,” he replied without looking up, and took a slow bite of the salad.

“That is definitely on my list. I absolutely loved _Song of Kali_ ,” she said, leaning on the counter as she waited for the coffee to finish.

“I haven’t gotten to that one yet,” he muttered distractedly and turned the page. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” she said, tapping her fingers against the granite countertop. “I’ll give you the summary later.”

“Okay,” he said, and took another bite out of the lettuce, tomato, and carrot filled bowl.

_At least he’s eating_ something, she thought. _Something’s better than nothing, but still…_

Once the coffee was finished, she filled the carafe up and his _Flash_ mug since there was a little left over and set it down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he murmured, setting the fork down so he could take a sip of it. 

“You’re welcome,” she replied and headed back out to the sales floor. Her worry for him niggled at the back of her mind throughout the rest of the day, even though he _seemed_ to be okay, she knew he wasn’t.

No matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“Aright, I guess I’m out for the day. You sure you’ll be okay?” Jody asked at a little after five. 

Dean was busy cleaning up the children’s section after a customer’s three hyperactive spawn had made quite the mess of it. Dean was a magician when it came to tidying up things. No matter how large or chaotic the mess, he always had it fixed quickly and efficiently. Almost every book they’d thrown on the floor or misplaced was back where it was supposed to be.

“Yeah,” he said with a small, half smile. “I’ll be fine. Tell Donna I said hi,” he added, sliding the last few books back into their respective slots.

“I will,” she replied as she buttoned up her coat. “Oh, I almost forgot, she won’t be in until nine tomorrow. She has to take Sarah in for a check-up.”

“How’s she doing?” he asked, placing his full attention on her now. 

“Almost a hundred percent, thank God. The doctors are amazed at how fast and far she’s come. She’s back living on her own, which Donna hates, but if she gets the go ahead tomorrow, she’ll be able to drive again. Anyhow, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call, okay?” she asked, wrapping her scarf around her neck. 

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured, lips quirked up in a half smile. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Alright?” she inquired as she headed for the door.

“Six o’clock sharp,” he replied with a nod and a wave.

“Night, kiddo,” she returned and headed out the door, the bells above jingling in her wake. The temperature had only risen a few degrees since the morning, she noted as she hurried to the car. Luckily, there was no snow to clean off it, but it still took a few minutes to warm up. 

The drive home was, thankfully, uneventful, but her thoughts still gravitated towards Dean. She knew that her concern wasn’t exactly unfounded, yet she didn’t want to keep pushing him either. The words _eating_ and _disorder_ kept whispering in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how true they might be. 

She wasn’t exactly an expert on the subject, but she recalled her teenage days and the stupid fad diets she would go on from time to time. Eventually, she learned that doing things like that weren’t worth it, and with eating healthy (for the most part) and working out, she was happy with herself. 

She thought back, recalling when he would eat greasy double cheeseburgers and fries for lunch and bring a dozen donuts in for breakfast. Or when he’d bring in a pie his husband had made for him, eating almost half of it before letting anyone else have any.

What had happened to _that_ Dean? What had made him change so drastically?

“Hey, hun,” Donna greeted her as she entered their home, flashing Jody a toothy grin until she saw the look on her face. She immediately went over to her, decked out in her Kiss the Cook apron, and placed a hand on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Jody sighed but leaned into her touch. “Just…have a lot on my mind, I suppose.”

“Like?” Donna prodded, worry now glistening in her brown eyes.

“I’m just worried about Dean. He hasn’t been the same since his husband’s deployment, and I’m starting to think that maybe…” her voice trailed off as she shrugged off her coat. 

“Maybe what?” Donna asked, taking it from her and hanging it up.

“As strange as it may sound and I really can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think – I think he may have an eating disorder,” she stated, biting her bottom lip in disbelief. 

Donna let out a breath of surprise, brow raising at the comment. “Oh wow. I mean, now that you say it, I can see it. He has lost quite a bit of weight.”

“I don’t want to be the one to assume or jump to conclusions, but I don’t know what else could explain it. I’d say it could be depression, but I really don’t think that’s it,” she said as she led the way into the kitchen, inhaling the glorious smell of Donna’s lasagna that was wafting from the oven. 

“Why would he do that to himself though?” Donna wondered aloud, brow drawn in confusion as she turned the oven off. “I mean, he’s quite a looker, ya know?”

“Why does anyone do it?” Jody shrugged as she pulled ingredients to make a salad out of the fridge. 

“So, what are we going to do?” Donna asked as she removed the lasagna dish from the oven and set it on top of the stove.

“I wish I had an answer for that, but I don't,” Jody replied wistfully. “We can't force feed him. Oh, which reminds me, I invited him over for dinner tomorrow night.”

Donna raised her eyebrows at that. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? If he does have one, ya know,” she said, gesturing around with her hands, “do you think it might be putting him on the spot? It could make it worse.”

Jody shrugged. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t want to scare him. But I don’t know how to help.”

“Let’s give him the option on whether or not he really wants to. That way it won't feel so forced,” Donna stated, and Jody couldn’t help but grin. “What?” Donna asked, blushing slightly as she started to cut the cooling food. 

“You never cease to amaze me is all,” Jody explained and leaned over for a quick kiss. 

Donna giggled afterward; slight blush still evident on her cheeks. After a moment, her expression transformed into a more serious one. “Let’s just do our best to be there for him, yeah?”

“I think I can manage that,” Jody agreed. “Although, I think he’s given me at least one new gray hair today alone…”

In the end, they both decided it would be best to proceed with caution and keep an extra close eye on him. It wasn’t the best solution, but it was the only route they felt they could take without overstepping. 

Little did they realize, that attempting to help Dean Winchester would be harder than running a bookstore.

And then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos  
> Chapter 6 : Redbone - Childish Gambino  
> Chapter 7 : Night Moves - Bob Seger  
> Chapter 8 : Afterglow - INXS  
> Chapter 9 : She Wants To Know - Half Moon Run
> 
> Thank you all once again for the lovely comments and kudos! They truly are appreciated! :)


	10. Crystalised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the reviews and kudos! I'm sorry for taking so long to update. Between work and going out of town, it didn't leave me much time to write.

Dean hated that his life only revolved around numbers now. 

His weight - _140.3_.

How many steps he had taken that day - _16,672_.

How many calories he'd consumed that day - _355_.

How many calories were currently in the pint of strawberries he was looking at - _90_.

Everything was a numbers game now, and they constantly ran through his head like a runner stuck going round and round on a never-ending racetrack. 

“Dean?” It took a moment for him to realize that someone was calling his name, too caught up in whether he should buy the damned pint of strawberries or not. 

He glanced up, eyes searching for the voice when his gaze landed on Gabriel who was staring at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. 

“Hey, Gabe,” he said, attempting to be casual but the words came out slowly, like they were made of molasses. He cleared his throat and tried again. “How's it going?” He shifted uneasily, hand clamping tightly onto the small grocery basket he was holding. 

“It’s uh, it’s going,” Gabriel replied, and Dean didn’t miss the way the other man looked him and down, eyes widening before he schooled his expression back into one of only slightly shocked neutrality. “How-How’ve you been?” he asked, moving the cart he was pushing to the side and out of the way of passersby. 

_Here we go. Same old, same old._

“I’m good. And yourself?” Dean returned, swallowing thickly as he nonchalantly tossed the plastic container of strawberries into his basket like they were nothing (even though they were ninety calories _of something_ ) and switched the basket to his other hand, his palms beginning to grow sweaty. 

_God, how awkward can you get?!_

“I’m – uh – I’m good, still at the, at the base, ya know.” Gabriel cleared his throat and glanced around before licking his lips and changing the subject. “So, have you talked to Cas recently?”

Dean couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his lips at the mention of his husband. He nodded in response. “Yeah, actually, a few days ago. He was on land for a few days. He’s doing good. Hot but good.”

“Yeah, it does get fairly warm over there. Kind of like hell, right?” Gabriel joked, and Dean just stared at him, the smile now more forced than anything.

“Uh…yeah, I guess?” Since the encounter was growing more strained by the minute, Dean forced an excuse between his lips. “Well, I’ve got to get going. It was, uh, nice to see you, Gabe,” he added, scratching the back of his neck and keeping his lips tipped upwards. 

“Yeah, yeah good to see you too. Tell Cas I said hi when you get a chance. I’d message him, but,” he paused, pointing to himself, “King of forgetfulness right here,” he said, chuckling at himself. 

“Will do,” Dean replied with a stiff wave, and quickly made his escape down an isle. He breathed out a sigh of relief as his feet carried him to the front of the store and towards a checkout line. His heart was still beating a little fast, but it began to calm as he stood in line, moving the basket from one hand to another until it had moved far enough that he could place his items on the conveyor belt. 

He and Gabriel had never been very close; he was Cas’s friend and former co-worker, after all. Dean never really saw him except at events and the occasional card game that Cas would host every now and then at their house. And even then, things were usually awkward between them in one way or another. Dean never quite understood why; they just were. 

Once, Cas had drunkenly told him that Gabriel had had a crush on him, but he’d found that hard to believe and had just laughed it off. Gabriel was just a flirt, plain and simple. 

“Hi…Dean?” the cashier greeted him, breaking him from his thoughts. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” he responded automatically, brow narrowing when he realized they’d said his name. He glanced up, eyes widening as he saw Kaia, Claire’s girlfriend staring back at him. “Oh, hey, Kaia,” he greeted, skin tightening on his cheeks as his lips turned upwards again. He was starting to feel like a deer caught in headlights more and more nowadays. “Haven’t seen you around the store lately. Where’ve you been?”

She opened her mouth to speak, hesitance catching her tongue. She tilted her head to the side just a fraction of an inch as she gave him another once over, eyes narrowing at the bony knuckles of his hands that were currently holding his wallet. “Um…yeah, that’s because I got a job here.” 

“That’s…that’s great. Good for you,” he responded, heart starting to pound once more in his chest as he felt her scrutinizing him. “So…what’s the damage?” he asked, nodding towards the cash register. 

“What? Oh, um…$35.29,” she answered, glancing at him as she placed all the items into two bags. 

He inserted his debit card into the reader and tapped in his pin, forcing the smile to remain in place as the machine took its sweet time accepting his payment. After what felt like an eternity, it beeped, and he retrieved his card from it. “Well, it was nice seeing you again,” he said, and she nodded at him though she still had a strange expression on her face. 

“Nice to see you too,” she replied, and began to check out the person behind him. 

He quickly grabbed his bags and headed out the door, his anxiety and insecurity levels through the roof. More and more, people were looking at him as though something were wrong with him and he hated it. Sure, he had lost a little weight, but it wasn’t worth gaping at him like he was some type of alien or something. 

He stalked over to his parking spot, fishing the keys to the Impala out of his jacket pocket and unlocked the door, frustrated at the way his hands were so keenly shaking as he tossed the bags into the passenger seat and started up the car. He paused for a moment, holding his right hand out in front of him, watching as it trembled like a leaf on a windy day. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

That was happening more and more lately as well.

Low blood sugar was a bitch, and he tried to avoid it at all costs, but when the most you consumed each day was five hundred calories, it tended to strike fairly often. 

He sighed and opened his eyes, hating that he had to do it, but knew it was inevitable if he wanted to make it home in one piece. He reached into one of the bags and took out the hand of bananas he’d just purchased and tore one off the bunch. Swallowing thickly, he began to peel it slowly and broke off the tip of it and forced it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, breaking it apart piece by piece until it was gone. 

Once he was finished, he sat there, waiting for his hands to stop their involuntary movements. After a few minutes (with the banana feeling like a lead weight in his stomach), he pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the street, the glow of the streetlights creating shadows along the pavement as he drove. 

His knuckles were stark white as they gripped the wheel, an internal battle raging in his head. 

_You’re weak. You could’ve made it home just fine and you know it._

He clenched his jaw and turned up the radio in attempt to drown out his thoughts, but not even Zeppelin’s _In the Evening_ was loud enough to make it stop. 

_What’s your total come to now? All the way up to_ 410 _. Starting to push it, don’t you think? You keep going at this rate and you’ll be back up to_ 200 _pounds before you know it._

He felt legit tears spring to his eyes at the thought of going back to the way he used to be and panic immediately settled in. Within seconds, he was pulling over. He flung the door open and leaned his head out just in time for the banana and the small salad he ate for lunch to push their way past his lips and out onto the pavement. 

Once everything was on the ground instead of in his stomach, he reached for the bottle of water that he kept close at all times and took a drink, swishing the clear substance around in his mouth, then spitting it out onto the asphalt before closing the door and leaning back in his seat. 

His heart was back to beating a mile a minute and his breaths were coming a little too fast for his liking, but it felt like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs no matter how hard he tried. He hunched over the steering wheel, leaning his head on the cool, black leather until it felt like he could breathe normally again. 

_That’s more like it. Feels good doesn’t it? Now you’re empty again, and that’s the way it should be._

He groaned and sat up, the beginnings of a headache or possible migraine buzzing in the back of his skull. 

_Probably just dehydrated. Little bit of water and you’ll be right as rain. No calories in that shit._

He gripped the liter bottle tightly and downed half of its contents, filling back up the space that was previously occupied with calories with none. 

He didn’t feel much better as he pulled away from the curb, but at least he wasn’t dry heaving on the pavement anymore, so there was that. 

By the time he made it home and parked in the driveway, he felt exhausted. 

He’d worked a full shift and tried to work more, but Donna had all but pushed him out of the store and told him to go home and “get some gosh darned rest, you stubborn man.”

Reluctantly, he’d forced himself to go grocery shopping instead. That had been a chore in itself, minus the fact of running into Gabe _and_ Kaia. 

He checked his watch, squinting his eyes at the fact that it was only just past six thirty. 

_Why am I so fucking tired?_

The thought immediately forced a yawn out between his lips, and he shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the drowsiness that was slowly descending upon him. He’d slept almost ten hours the night before, however fitfully it was, and knew there was no way in hell he should be this worn down.

He forced open the car door, it groaning as he did so. He made a mental note to pick up some WD-40 the next time he went to the store, whenever that would be. He grabbed the two bags out of the passenger seat and stood up, a bout of dizziness assaulting him as soon as he was on his feet. He made quick work of using the car to lean on, closing his eyes for a moment until it went away.

“Goddammit,” he muttered angrily and slammed the door shut. 

A weak breeze blew past him as he trudged across the front lawn and he shivered in response, the cool, spring night air still holding a slight chill to it. That’s what he told himself anyway, completely ignoring the fact that the last time he’d glanced at his phone less than an hour before, it had said that it was still seventy-five degrees outside. 

He unlocked the front door and made his way into the kitchen, setting both bags on the large wooden table. He shrugged off his jacket and went back into the living room, hanging it up near the door then went back into the kitchen, a little voice in his head telling him that every step counted. 

The plastic bags crinkled as he took the meager contents out and loaded them into the fridge (with the exception of the remaining bananas) – two small bags of salad mix (60 calories each), the pint of strawberries, two bags of baby carrots (170 calories each), celery (50 calories), three yellow apples (80 calories each), and a couple of green peppers (33 calories each). 

He closed the refrigerator door and removed the non-perishable items from the second bag – a small bag of white rice, a small canister of plain oatmeal and a bottle of multi-vitamins. 

He placed the oatmeal and rice into the bare cupboard near the sink and then filled a glass with cool water, downing almost all of it in one gulp. His stomach gurgled in response.

The rational part of his mind told him that he should eat, that it was okay to have some carrots or even some of the salad mix; but the darker part of his mind – the part that seemed to be winning far more than it was losing nowadays – told him not to have anything at all, that he didn’t need it and would be better off without it. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

_A few carrots won’t hurt._

_That’s what you think until the numbers on the scale start to creep back up. Don’t want that now, do ya?_

_There are only 35 calories in one serving. You at least need a little something…_

_You’ve managed to erase almost everything you’ve had today, why give it up? You’re empty and that’s all that really matters…_

_You know better than that! You have to at least have a little something. After all, you’ve walked seven miles today. You can indulge a little bit…_

He would’ve screamed at himself had his phone not rang, _Ramble On_ playing loudly in the quiet of the house. He took one more breath before he answered, hoping he didn’t sound as frustrated as he was currently feeling.

“Hey, Sammy, how’s it going?”

“Dean, how many times do I have to tell you, it’s –”

“Sam now, blah blah blah blah blah blah. So, what’s up?” he inquired, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding one arm across his chest as he waited for his kid brother’s response. 

“Well…I have a week off between classes next month, and I was wondering if it would be okay to come out and see you…”

Dean was silent for a moment, his brain finally catching up to what Sam had said. “Yeah, dude, that would be awesome. Any reason why you want to see me and not them?” 

Now it was Sam’s turn to be quiet. “I-I haven’t exactly spoken to Mom and Dad since last year. Just couldn’t take it anymore, ya know?”

Dean knew. It had been almost four years since his last and final attempt to give them a chance at being in his life. 

They still couldn’t handle having a gay son, let alone a married one at that. 

“Also,” Sam continued, “it’s been over a year since I’ve last seen you and I miss you.”

Dean groaned. “Don’t go all mushy on me now, Sam. It’s so _unbecoming_ ,” he joked and he could almost hear Sam rolling his eyes at him.

“How are you exactly?” Sam asked after a moment of silence. “I know you’re not exactly one for social media, but it’s been awhile since I’ve heard from you. You haven’t called or texted in weeks.”

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. “I’m fine, Sammy. It’s just…”

“He’ll be back before you know it,” Sam reassured matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just going to suck until then.”

“Well, it won’t suck while I’m there.” There was silence until Sam spoke again. “It will be okay though, right?”

Dean’s brow lowered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

Dean let out an exaggerated sigh this time. “Dude, it’s fine, alright? Quit making this weird.”

“I’m not making it weird, Dean,” Sam stated, tone bordering on even. 

“You can make anything weird, Sam. It’s like your gift or something. Aside from the fact at how well you can argue. Now, that part of your personality is what _really_ takes the cake, but I guess it works out judging that you want to do that professionally…”

“Why do you always have to do this?” There was no bordering this time. His tone was as sharp as a knife.

“Do what? Rile you up?” Dean asked, and he couldn’t help the smile that was now present in his voice. 

“Yes! That!” Sam all but exclaimed, and Dean snickered at him.

“Because it’s fun and it’s what big brothers do. Anyway,” he said, preparing to end the conversation, but Sam derailed his train of thought. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The anger was gone from his voice. Now it was laden with worry.

“Sam,” Dean started, his voice holding an authoritative tone. 

“What? I’m just making sure. You may not get on social media, but your bookstore is still pretty good about it.”

“And?” Dean shrugged, like those words were supposed to mean something to him.

“You’ve lost weight,” came the simple, but concerned response.

Realization dawned on him then. Claire had posted a picture of him a few months back when they were having a comic book sale.

_Sonuvabitch_.

“Dammit, Sam, I’m fine, okay? Really, I am. I just decided to…get healthy, that’s all,” Dean rationalized with finality in his tone.

“If you say so…”

“I do. Look, can we just not argue for once? Are you capable of doing that?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not arguing with you about anything. I was just –”

“Sam, look – I promise, I really am fine, alright? Let me know what date and time you plan on being here, and I’ll make sure I’ll be at the airport waiting for you, okay?”

Sam sighed across the line. “Fine, yeah, I will.”

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Dean.” 

“Fuck,” Dean muttered and made sure the call had ended before he set the phone down on the counter. He raised his glasses up and rested them on his top of his head, then dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Fucking Claire and that goddamned Facebook bullshit,” he grumbled, letting his glasses fall back into place as he repocketed his phone. 

Of course, Sam would follow their stupid Facebook page. Everyone at the bookstore enjoyed it but him. He understood that it helped with the business side of things, but still…

_You’re being a dick. He’s just worried about you is all. Just like everyone else…_

He’d been trying. Not necessarily to be better, just trying to be better at hiding that he wasn’t exactly doing so well. 

He absolutely fucking hated that everyone looked at him with worry in their eyes now. 

There was nothing really that wrong with him. Why couldn’t they understand that?

He’d been forcing himself to eat in front of Jody and Donna when they were present, or say he was going out for lunch (even if he really was just walking to the park a few blocks away and making laps around it instead). 

He was fine. 

Perfectly _fucking_ fine.

His stomach growled loudly, as though it were playing a poker game with his brain and just called instead of folded like it usually did.

“Fuck,” he muttered angrily, and opened the fridge. He pulled out one of the bags of carrots and filled his glass back up with water and went into the living room. He kicked his boots off and sat down on the couch, picking up the remote and turning on the TV. He flipped through station after station until he finally gave up and decided on watching some reruns of _Game of Thrones_. 

He sat back on the couch, folding his legs up so that he was sitting Indian style and carefully tore open the bag of carrots. He set them on his lap, and nibbled on them until he passed out, the sounds of the Dothraki fighting in the background as he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

S*P*N

He awoke the next morning to his alarm going off, AC/DC’s _Back in Black_ alerting him that it was _6:00 AM_ and time to get up. When he opened his eyes, he realized that his glasses had somehow managed to ease themselves away from his face while he was sleeping, leaving nothing but fuzziness to surround him while he blindly searched for not only them, but his phone as well.

His bony fingers met his phone first, and he had to hold the screen within two inches of his face to finally shut the damned thing off. Once that was taken care of, he felt around on the couch then gave up and searched on the floor.

The hardwood was cool beneath his fingertips as he checked underneath him, taking a breath of relief when they wrapped around the frames. He slipped them on and sat up, sliding the blanket that he’d cocooned himself in at some point during the night off and onto the back of the couch. 

He yawned and forced himself to stand up, scrubbing his hands across his still hoodie-covered arms, chilly despite the thermostat being set at seventy-eight degrees. He made his way upstairs and into the bathroom, the shower knobs squeaking ever so slightly in protest as he turned them on, more hot than cold. 

He relieved himself as he let the water warm up, washing his hands afterwards then started the task of undressing.

He shivered as he began to shed his clothes, first the hoodie, then the flannel, and finally the too large t-shirt that swallowed his scrawny frame. The buckle clinked on his belt as he undid it from its position on the smallest setting and his pants immediately slid down and to the floor with a muffled thumping sound. He kicked them off and was about to slide off his boxers when he caught sight of the scale, beckoning him from the corner. 

His still sleep-hazed mind suddenly became a lot clearer and his heartbeat sped up. 

Moving more smoothly but with hesitance, he pulled it away from the corner and towards the center of the room, biting his bottom lip as he carefully stepped onto it. 

_139.8_

His eyes widened at the sight, and he reset the device twice more before accepting the fact that the numbers were real. 

A rush of euphoria flooded through his system, and a small smile tugged up the corners of his lips. 

He pushed the scale back into its reserved location and shucked off his boxers with his glasses following in pursuit as he set them on the nearby counter and hurried under the hot spray. He closed his eyes, relaxing under the soothing water momentarily as it slid down his rail thin frame and swirled into the drain below. 

Glee welled up inside him even as more hair than he would have liked came out when he rinsed the apple-scented shampoo that he used off his scalp. He ignored the way his hips bones jutted out and how knobby his knees were as he spread his body wash across his pale skin. He was oblivious to the way he could feel each rib under his fingertips as ran them up and down his near translucent flesh, rinsing off the soap and suds. 

The steam dissipated quickly as he turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry off with, the cool air causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. Once he was finished removing any trace of the water from his skin, he wrapped the towel around his waist and put his glasses back on. 

Blissfully ignoring the mirror, he retrieved all his discarded clothes from the cool floor and made his way into the bedroom. He tossed them as well as the towel into the hamper and padded past the still made bed (that hadn’t been slept in in almost a week) over to their dresser. He pulled out a pair of boxers and slipped them on, brow lowering when they slipped right back down, gravity pulling them to the floor. He checked the tag and saw that they were an old pair, a pair from… _before_. He held the offending undergarment in front of him as though it were something disgusting, staring at it with a look of temporary disbelief. 

How Cas could have found him to be attractive then, he didn’t understand. 

He swallowed thickly and placed them back in the drawer, taking another, smaller pair, out and slipped them on. They were size medium and just a little big, but they would do. He went over to the closet and took a pair of jeans off their hanger and put them on, the dark denim hanging low on his hips as he buttoned them. He decided on a Wolverine t-shirt, one that he’d bought long ago that had become too tight in recent years. 

It was at least two sizes too big now.

Knowing he would still be chilly with just the tee (even though the high was supposed to get up to nearly ninety that day), he pulled on a blue and white plaid flannel, forgoing rolling up the sleeves like he used to. 

He stopped by the dresser once more and grabbed a pair of Deadpool socks and sat down on the bed and quickly pulled them on. He went back into the bathroom, going through his usual routine of brushing his teeth and combing his hair. It had thinned a bit in recent months, but he did his best to ignore that fact and finished by adding a touch of gel to it. Once he was satisfied with the results, he went downstairs and over to the couch, sitting down long enough to slip his shoes on and slide his phone into his pocket, then he was off to the kitchen. 

His notebook was sitting on the kitchen table, still open to the previous day’s entry. 

_Apple – 80_  
Bagel - 200  
Salad -30 

He starred at the small scrawl on the sheet of paper and decided to add the banana and carrots to it, regardless of the fact that he’d thrown up the salad and banana. It was better to overestimate than under, he figured. 

He considered making some coffee but decided against it when he checked the time. He’d been driving to work again, inwardly hating himself for it, but he didn’t want to appear suspicious to Jody and Donna anymore, so he had started taking daily walks at the park before work to make up for the steps he’d miss by not walking there. They still watched him closely, and he was doing everything he could to make it seem like everything was fine. 

Even if it was far from it. 

Once he was finished tallying up his calories from the day before – _470_ – he went over to the sink and filled a glass with water. He took a sip before he returned to the table and opened up the bottle of vitamins he’d left there the night before. He tapped one of the light orange pills out on to the palm of his hand, then placed it on his tongue, washing it down with a large gulp of water. He put the cap back on the bottle and set it down on the table. 

Once the glass was empty, he placed it in the empty dish rack to let it dry. His stomach growled loudly as left the kitchen, but he chose to ignore it, deciding against breakfast. Instead, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door. The air was warm and the sun was already shining brightly in the cloudless blue sky as he got into the Impala, the engine roaring to life once he’d inserted the key into the ignition. 

He backed out of the driveway and headed down the street. Traffic was still light as he drove in the direction of the park, as it usually was at six thirty on Saturday mornings. He spotted a few joggers already making their morning rounds as he pulled into a parking space, the sounds of _Ramble On_ disappearing as he turned the Impala off. He retrieved his headphones from the glove box and plugged them into his phone before placing them in his ears as he exited the car. 

He turned on his eighties playlist and began his walk, ignoring the echoes of pain that were emanating from his knees. He’d been walking at least seven to eight miles a day, and not taking a day off from it was starting to wear on his limbs. He chose to ignore the soreness, telling himself that he just needed new insoles and that he wasn’t wearing himself out, and continued with his walk. 

Letting the music consume him, he did lap after lap, blissfully ignoring the rumblings of his distraught and empty stomach. He was almost finished when one of his shoelaces came untied, not realizing it until he’d managed to step on it with his other shoe. He momentarily lost his balance but righted himself before he completely toppled over. Embarrassment reddened his cheeks as a few joggers passed him, though they didn’t appear to pay him any attention. Feeling like a clumsy idiot, he bent down and retied the lace. 

Everything was fine until he stood back up.

He’d experienced head rushes more times than he could count, but this – this was something altogether different. 

One second, the sun was shining brightly in his eyes and the sounds of Bob Seger’s _The Fire Down Below_ was filtering through his ear drums, but as he stood there staring blankly ahead, blinking rapidly, his reality was altered. Pinpricks of white light took over his vision, but then were soon replaced with darkness. His vision wasn’t blurry or doubled – it was gone. 

Panic soon seized at his chest as the roaring of blood rushing through his ears all but consumed him. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to figure out what exactly was going on, and why the fuck he couldn’t see. Dizziness followed his absence of vision, like dust trailing after a comet. The world spun this way and that until a pair of hands gripped his shoulders. Dean immediately tensed at the sudden touch until he realized that whoever it was, was currently saying his name. Reluctantly, he pulled off his headphones.

“Dean, are you okay?”

He recognized the voice almost instantly. 

It took him a moment to reply, his tongue not wanting to respond to his brain’s commands. 

“H-hey, Jack, w-what are you doing here so early?” he asked, his voice coming out worn and shaky.

“It’s how I get to work,” Jack replied matter-of-factly, hands still planted firmly on Dean’s bony shoulders. 

“Right, right, I knew that,” Dean stated, trying to play it off, but the not-seeing thing really wasn’t helping.

“Dean, are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look very good…”

Dean swallowed thickly, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them and his vision was still obliterated by darkness, he should his head. “No, I think – I think I just need to sit down for a moment…”

Shame washed over him as Jack led him towards what he presumed was a bench. He felt around for the arm rest before he sat down, sweat beginning to pool on his forehead and lower back. He heard rustling noises before a cool bottle of water and what felt like a granola bar were pressed into his hands.

“I’m – I’m…Thanks,” he finally muttered, defeat present in his tone. He set the granola bar on his lap, choosing to try to drink the water first. There were a rehearsed set of excuses on his tongue, but when he heard the sad sigh from beside him, he forewent telling them. 

Awkward silence settled between them until Jack finally spoke again. 

“You need to eat that,” he instructed, and as much as Dean hated to admit it, the kid was right. 

He reluctantly picked up the small, rectangular object and started to unwrap it slowly. 

“Everyone’s worried about you,” Jack said, and the words made Dean shake his head in response.

“Well, they shouldn’t be,” he replied, anger present in his voice as he bit off part of the bar. It was chocolate chip, something he had enjoyed at one point in his life. 

Now, it just tasted bitter.

“Do you have a reason why we shouldn’t be?” Jack asked innocently, and Dean scoffed in response, though his heart was still beating a mile a minute to the darkness that was still covering his vision. 

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Jack. I’m _fine_.”

“If you were fine, you’d be able to see right now,” The words made the sweat that was slipping down Dean’s back and forehead feel even colder. 

“I’m sorry, but what?” he asked, sounding ever defiant and incredulous. “I can see just fine, thanks. Just got a head rush is all.”

“No, you can’t,” Jack argued. “What you’re experiencing is a black out. That’s what my mom calls it anyway. It usually happens to diabetics when their blood sugar drops too low. Wait, you’re not diabetic, are you?” And even though Dean still couldn’t see to save his life, he could only imagine the thoughtful expression on Jack’s young visage. 

His attempt at speaking was curtailed by what felt like a piece of the granola bar stuck in the back of his throat, so he took another sip of water and tried again. “No, I’m not,” he admitted with a shake of his head.

“So it is an eating disorder then,” Jack clarified, as though there was absolutely no other alternative. 

“What?” Dean found his voice going to octaves higher than it normally did. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I do _not_ have an eating…thing.” 

“You can call it whatever you want, Dean, but if you went to see a doctor right now, that would be their diagnosis,” Jack informed him, and Dean started chuckling though it was a humorless sound. 

“You’ve been watching too much TV, kid,” he commented, trying not to sound as nervous and afraid as he truly felt. 

“I don’t watch too much TV. In fact, I don’t really watch any at all. My mom’s a nurse, you know that. She tells me about work sometimes.” 

“Look, Jack, I know you’re just trying to help, but eating disorders are for chicks, okay? I’m just… trying to be healthy,” Dean defended himself, no matter how weak sounding the excuse was. 

“But…you’re not,” Jack stated simply. “Dean, do you know how much I weigh?”   
Dean shrugged exaggeratedly and forced down the last bit of the granola bar. “What, like a buck thirty soaking wet?” He sipped more of the water, surprise and relief flooding through him when the edges of his vision started to return.

_Oh, thank God!_

“No, a hundred and fifty-five,” Jack replied, and Dean almost spit the water back out, wiping away a few droplets that had escaped his lips with his sleeve. 

“There’s no way,” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. 

_There’s no way I weigh less than him. Absolutely no fucking way. The kid’s a twig!_

“How much do you weigh?” 

The question hung in the air momentarily as the green of the grass and the blue of the sky finally skated back into Dean’s sight. Things were still a little fuzzy, but for the most part, he could see again. 

Including the expectant look on Jack’s face.

“More than you,” Dean lied as he attempted to stand, his legs feeling more like jelly than flesh and bone. He sat back down, jaw clenched at his weakness. 

“Dean, I know it’s –”

“Jack,” Dean stated with a tone of finality as he cut him off, “I know you mean well. Really, I do. But just stop, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me, I don’t have an eating disorder, and we should really get to work, alright? Case closed, let’s go.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself for another attempt at standing. This time, he stayed upright. “You coming?” he asked after taking a few steps without hearing any movement from behind. 

Jack stared at him from the bench, a worried expression etched onto his face. Without a word, he rose to his feet and began to follow Dean, sadness glimmering in his eyes as he clenched at his backpack. 

Dean sighed, hating the fact that he knew he was acting like a jerk but also pissed because no one was listening to him. 

He was fine, why didn’t they get that? 

He did _not_ have an eating disorder. 

No fucking way. 

Dean Winchester did _not_ have an eating disorder...did he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos  
> Chapter 6 : Redbone - Childish Gambino  
> Chapter 7 : Night Moves - Bob Seger  
> Chapter 8 : Afterglow - INXS  
> Chapter 9 : She Wants To Know - Half Moon Run  
> Chapter 10 : Crystalised - The XX
> 
> Thank you all once again for the lovely comments and kudos! They truly are appreciated! :)


	11. Colony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for taking so long to get this out, but hopefully, it was worth the wait! :)

The room was dark, the sun having set hours before. The only sounds were the tiny whimpers and sobs of two-year-old Sammy, and the quiet soothing noises coming from Dean.

“Shhh, it’ll be okay, Sammy,” Dean whispered into his little brother’s ear. “Mom and Dad aren’t mad at you.”

The toddler sniffled and two more large tears rolled down his reddened cheeks. He was on the verge of another crying spell, and surely, that alone would set their parents off on another torrent of fighting. 

Dean pulled the smaller boy nearer to him so that he was as close to Dean as possible. “Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad, take a sad song, and make it better,” he quietly sang in his little brother’s ear while wrapping his small arm around him.

Sammy sniffled again but his breathing had started to even out. He peered up at Dean with wide, watery eyes, listening as Dean continued.

“And any time you feel the pain, hey Jude refrain, don’t carry the world on your shoulders…”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Lambert International Airport…” 

The sounds of the flight attendant’s announcement roused Sam from his dozing state. He sat up straighter in his seat, his knees still digging into the seat in front of him. The cheap seats were definitely not made for people over six feet tall, that was for sure. 

“For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign…”

Sam pulled the headphones from off his ears, the music having stopped long before. 

Remnants of the dream lingered in the back of his thoughts as he waited, albeit a bit impatiently, to get up. The flight hadn’t been long, but a few screaming children and the confined space had frayed his nerves. 

He took a deep breath and found relief as soon as the **Seat Belt Fastened** sign went off. He immediately stood up and stretched his legs, inwardly thankful that he’d managed to snag an aisle seat.

Grabbing his bag, he waited as the other passengers began filing out. He slung his bag over his shoulder and once the crowd had thinned, made his way towards the front. 

He’d agreed to meet Dean outside of the airport, as his brother wasn’t too fond of airports or flying for that matter. He’d always wondered how he’d managed to make it on the international flights whenever he’d traveled with Castiel, alcohol more than likely involved in the equation.

The airport was large, and it took a little while to navigate through it, but eventually, he found his way towards the exit. 

The first thing that struck him was the immediate slap in the face of the midwestern heat and humidity, and it instantly reminded him of how much he didn’t miss living there. 

The second thing that struck him, was the man that was standing next to his brother’s car. 

The car itself appeared as it had every time he’d seen it – clean and polished, looking brand new instead of the fifty years plus that it actually was – just how their grandfather had kept it and how Dean continued to keep it to honor the man’s memory. The sunlight only highlighted the beauty of the recent paint job his brother had done to it, the shine and gleam so bright that it could be blinding. 

The car, he recognized. 

The man standing next to it was an entirely different story.

Sure, he wore Dean’s glasses. And had even mastered the relaxed yet impatient lean against the car, as Dean alone could somehow pull off. 

He wore Dean’s clothes, even had his hair styled the same way.

But there was no way in hell that man could be his brother.

His brother was tall, as this man appeared to be, but his brother was also strong and broad shouldered. His brother had tan skin and bright, green eyes that were filled with light and warmth and life. 

The man before him was thin, skeletally so. Even from twenty feet away, Sam could see how tightly his pale skin was pulled over his cheekbones, how owlish his eyes looked behind – what Sam liked to call – his Clark Kent glasses. The freckles that dusted his cheeks now looked like tiny, painted on black dots due to the contrast of his near transparent looking skin.

Sam swallowed thickly, unable to wonder if the emotions that were flooding through his head and making his heart feel as though it had leapt into his throat were apparent on his face. He was never that good at hiding how he felt, choosing to be blunt almost to a T, but in this instance, he found himself forcing a smile of greeting onto his face, even though it felt like all of the air had just been knocked out of his lungs.

“Hey, Dean,” he said, and the words didn’t come out as brittle as he thought they would as he opened his arms to hug his brother. 

“What’s up, Sammy?” Dean returned with a grin of his own, and the voice that came out of the man’s throat was Dean’s, Sam thought, but he still couldn’t help but question the validity of his reality as his hands made gentle contact with the scrawny man’s back, nothing but bones to be felt through the layers he was wearing. 

Sam’s heart had been broken before, quite recently actually. But nothing could have prepared him for how it felt now. It was as though someone had ripped it out of his chest and dissected it into a million tiny pieces, forcing him to watch the entire time. 

_Oh God_ , the voice inside his head stirred. _Is he dying? Is this why he was acting so strangely on the phone?_

“It’s been awhile,” Sam stated, inwardly hoping he didn’t pull away from the hug too fast. 

“It’s definitely been too long,” Dean agreed with a nod, eyes squinting in the afternoon sun, sizing Sam up and down as Sam had just done to him. “How in the hell did you manage to get even taller, dude?”

Sam grinned awkwardly at the mention of his height and shrugged, one hand now grasping a strap on his backpack as he peered around. 

It was hard for him to look at Dean right now. He knew that he needed to, but fuck, was it hard. He took in a breath and steeled his gaze back onto his brother. 

Though no words were momentarily spoken between them, Dean nodded and made his way over to the driver’s side of the car. As he got in, Sam tossed his pack into the back seat, taking note of just how pristine the inside of the Impala was. As he sat down in the passenger seat, he saw that the front of the vehicle was in the exact same shape. No fast food wrappers or old soda bottles. It was clean and shiny, just like the exterior. 

“The car, uh, looks amazing, by the way,” Sam mentioned, pulling his seatbelt over his chest and clicking it into place. He was doing his best not to mention the weight loss, hoping and praying that he could hold off for at least twenty-four hours so they could have one pleasant day together. 

“Thanks,” Dean replied, his concentration on navigating through the heavy traffic that was coming in and out of the parking lot. 

Sam glanced over at him, worry stirring his chest as he saw a bony wrist peak out of the long-sleeved flannel that had been covering the appendage up until then. The watch that decorated it slipped down and out of sight, back underneath the cotton that had been concealing it. 

“You’re usually a little more talkative,” Dean remarked, the comment throwing Sam off guard. “I mean, you usually look like an over-sized puppy, but you usually sound like one too.”

Sam huffed at his brother’s words but felt a smile turning up the corners of his lips. 

“Just taking it all in, I guess,” Sam said with another faint shrug. “Think maybe we could go up in the Arch while I’m here?” he asked, grasping for a reason to keep up appearances. Dean was right, he wasn’t acting like his usual self, but then again, there was a lot currently weighing on his mind. 

He peered over at his brother, an expression of anxiousness tightening his skin. 

“Or we don’t have to, if you don’t want to --”

“No, it’s fine,” Dean interjected. “We can, just might have to switch around my schedule at work. No big deal.” 

Sam nodded, more to himself than anything, and turned his gaze back towards the window. 

“So, how’s Jess doing? You popped the question yet?” Dean asked with a sly grin, and Sam’s brow immediately turned downward. “Sam? Everything okay?”

Sam took in a breath, but still faltered for words. There were numerous excuses and explanations running through his head, but all that came out was, “We, um, we broke up.” He felt the car react to Dean’s sudden braking, but the smooth ride returned within a few seconds. 

“You gonna tell me what happened or just leave me hanging?” Dean asked, sending continuous glances his way. 

Sam tried to ignore them, but he could feel Dean’s gaze burrowing a hole right through him, so he forced the story out as quickly and concisely as possible. “I came home early from the library one night and found her with Brady.”

“Oh, shit, Sammy, I’m sorry,” Dean apologized, and Sam wanted to cling to the sincerity in his tone. He had friends, sure, but his brother always found a way to either comfort him or annoy him, depending on the situation. “You want me to go kick his ass?”

Sam smiled grimly and shook his head, his bangs gently brushing against his forehead in the process. “No, I just…don’t want to think about it right now. It’s over and done with, and I’m just trying to move on.”

“As much as I’d love to believe that bullshit, we both know it’s not true,” Dean stated, shoving his glasses back up to where they’d slid down to. Sam peered over at him in that instance, and his eyes widened when he noticed Dean’s wedding ring was missing. 

“Where’s your ring?” he asked, and Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes in response. 

“Nice try, Sammy, but I’m not changing the subject just yet and neither are you. And just to calm your curious heart, it’s at the jeweler currently so don’t you worry your pretty little, shaggy head about it. Now, how long ago did this happen?”

Sam folded his arms across his chest and leaned further back into the seat. “About a month ago.”

Dean nodded though there was still an air of curiousness about him. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I would’ve come out there, you know. If not to beat his ass, at least to be there.”

A hint of water glossed Sam’s eyes, and he immediately felt ridiculous. His plan was to come here to see his brother, not ball his eyes out within minutes of seeing him again because he’d been cheated on. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “I’ve been dealing with it, Dean.”

“Dealing with it how?” Dean continued with his barrage of questions as they crossed over the Poplar Street Bridge and headed into Illinois. 

“I haven’t been drinking myself to sleep every night like Dad, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Well, that’s something,” Dean murmured, and Sam could see his jaw clench visibly underneath his skin. Their parents were a sore spot, Sam knew. He didn’t blame Dean one bit though. After the way they’d treated him when they found out he preferred boys over girls, Sam couldn’t quite figure out why he’d put up with them for as long as he had. 

“I’m fine, Dean, really,” Sam stated with a nod. “Or, I will be anyway.”

“Alright, I’ll let you have a pass now, but we’re not done talking about this yet,” Dean warned. “So, aside from that situation, how’s school?”

Now there was a subject Sam could take pride and not mind talking about. “School’s going really well, actually,” he replied, face brightening at the opportunity to speak about something he was truly excited about. “In another two years, I should have my degree.”

“You’ll be the best prosecuting attorney the state of California’s ever seen,” Dean said, a large grin lighting up his face. After a few moments of silence, he added, “I’m proud of you, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t help the immediate blur of his vision at those words, his eyes welling up once more with tears. It took a minute to swallow back the lump in his throat and blink the salty substance out of his eyes. “Thanks, Dean. That means a lot.” 

“Alright, enough of the mushy stuff,” Dean stated, false bravado mask firmly back on his too-thin visage. “Once we get back to the house, you can put your stuff in the spare bedroom, and then we can grab something to eat if you want. Sound good?”

“Uh, yeah, sounds great,” Sam replied with a nod, glancing at his brother once more out of the corner of his eye. He found himself biting his tongue, too afraid that some unintended question or jab would cause a blow up between them already. 

He knew Dean was in a fragile state. He had been since Castiel had been deployed, and it was understandable, of course. 

_Is he just depressed? What else could be doing this to him?_

“So, how’s everything going for you?” Sam finally let the words slip out of his mouth casually as he stared at the passing trees and houses as they exited the highway and returned to city streets. 

His question was met with Dean’s usual and quick response of, “Good. Everything’s good,” but Sam could tell he was anything but. Good was not a word Sam would use to describe the state Dean appeared to be in, and the more he thought about it, the more he needed to know what exactly was wrong with his brother. 

“Have you, uh, have you spoken with Castiel recently?” he tried again, attempting to covertly search Dean’s face for any sort of unspoken emotion but his brother’s mask was almost as solid as steel and he found nothing but a small, almost unnoticeable smile at the mention of the man’s name. 

“Yeah, last week. They’ve been keeping him pretty busy, but we managed to talk for about twenty minutes, so that’s something.”

“That’s good,” Sam said, still searching for some crack in his brother’s armor, though there was none. 

“Home sweet home,” Dean announced as he pulled up to a two-story house and parked in the driveway along the side of it. The front yard was small, but open, and the grass looked freshly cut. 

“Nice place,” Sam commented as he got out, retrieving his backpack from the back seat, then following Dean across the lawn and up the few steps that led to the entrance. 

He watched as Dean’s hand trembled ever so slightly as he unlocked the door and motioned for Sam to go in first. Sam did, and Dean followed behind him, closing the door once they were both inside. 

The temperature of the house immediately caught Sam’s notice – it was warm, not cool and air conditioned as he was expecting. 

“Like to keep it toasty in here, huh?” he joked, and he watched as a look of fear washed over Dean’s thin face before dissolving quickly into a more guilty one. 

“Forgot to turn the air on before I left,” Dean said sheepishly and quickly went over to thermostat and turned it down. 

“I’d think you’d have it on all the time as hot as the summers get here,” Sam commented, and Dean shrugged. 

“It’s not so bad right now, but I’m sure July and August will be another story. Anyway,” he said, quickly changing the topic. “Through there is the kitchen, this, of course, is the living room, and the bedrooms are up here,” he said, heading up the staircase. 

Sam looked around, not missing how the house was just as clean, if not more so, than the Impala. Everything seemed to have its place, though it was decorated sparsely, just a few pictures hanging on the walls here and there. “You comin’?” Dean called out from the top of the steps, and Sam rolled his eyes. “Might wanna watch your head, Sammy, might hit it on the ceiling or something,” Dean jabbed with his words, chuckling as Sam huffed at him. 

“I’m not _that_ tall,” Sam mumbled as he walked down the small hallway. 

“Yeah, you’re only like what, teenage Sasquatch height?” Dean asked, bursting into a fit of laughter when Sam flashed him what Dean like to call his ‘bitch face’. “Oh, man, I sure missed seeing that,” Dean admitted, stopping at a door at the end of the hallway. He opened it and flipped the light on, backing away so Sam could go in first. 

The room was small but just as clean as the rest of the house. The bed was a full size with fresh, navy blue colored sheets. Sam could smell the fabric softener Dean used almost immediately. As much as he joked about hating that little bear on the bottle, he sure used the hell out of the stuff. Aside from the bed, there was a small wooden dresser sitting near the window on the right side of the bed and a closet to the left of it. 

Sam sat his bag down on the bed, figuring he could finish his inspection of the place later. Dean promised food, and he’d skipped breakfast that morning, in too much of a rush so he could make it to the airport on time. His stomach grumbled loudly enough at that moment for Dean to hear, leading to another series of chuckles from the smaller man.

“C’mon, Sasquatch, let’s get you something to eat,” Dean said, leading the way down the hallway and back down the stairs. “What are you in the mood for? Pizza? Chinese? What _do_ Sasquatches eat exactly?”

Sam playfully grumbled at him, annoyed at the teasing but he missed his brother too much to really care about that right now. “Anything sounds good right about now,” Sam confessed. 

“Alright, I know just the place then,” Dean stated and led the way back out the front door, making sure to lock it behind them. 

Sam continued to steal glances at him as they drove, only half-listening to the story Dean was telling. Worry had clamored into his brain, and the harder he tried, the worse his train of thought progressed. 

Dean was acting normal, of course, and that alone made Sam fear the worst. Was it cancer or some other terminal illness? What could have made Dean lose so much weight? 

His jeans were too large, by far, and if Sam had to guess, he was clothed in at least two layers, maybe even three and it was over ninety degrees outside; but Dean didn’t seem to be bothered in the least by the heat. 

Eventually, the car stopped, and it took Sam a full minute to realize that Dean had been waving a bony hand in front of his face and repeating his name over and over again.

“Sammy, you okay?” 

Sam stared at him for a minute and then nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, forcing a tight smile back onto his tan features. “Probably just low blood sugar. Forgot to eat breakfast this morning.” He glanced at Dean to catch his reaction and caught an expression he couldn’t quite place before it quickly disappeared and was replaced with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Let’s get you fed then. Don’t want ya passing out on me or anything,” he joked, and Sam let a fake laugh pass between his lips.

Sam extracted himself from the Impala and followed Dean inside the small café style establishment. The place was almost empty, just a few people scattered amongst the small, round wooden tables, sipping on what Sam presumed to be coffee from over-sized mugs and munching on late afternoon snacks. There was a sign hanging up at the front where the register was that said **Welcome to Benny's** in dark blue lettering. 

“Cas and I used to come here all the time,” Dean explained as Sam followed him up front. 

Sam nodded in understanding as a tall, thin woman came out from what he presumed to be the kitchen. 

“Hey, Liz,” Dean greeted her. 

Sam watched as she looked up from tying her apron and her eyes widened in recognition and a warm but concerned smile etched up the corners of her lips.

“Hey, Dean! Long time no see,” she responded as she put her hair up. 

“Benny still living it up down south?” Dean asked, casually leaning on the counter. 

“Yeah, the new place finally had their grand opening, but he’s sticking around for a while to make sure everything continues to go smoothly,” she explained. “So, how’ve you been? Haven’t seen you around here in a while.” 

Dean appeared uncomfortable for just a moment before Sam watched the mask slide right back into place, and he shrugged nonchalantly in response. “Been putting in a lot of hours at the store,” he stated.

“I see, and who’s this?” she asked, looking over at Sam.

“This is my Sasquatch of a brother, Sam,” Dean said, patting him on the shoulder. “Sam, this is Liz. She’s Benny’s little sister. He’s the guy that owns this place.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam greeted with a nod and polite smile. 

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied, warm smile still on her lips. “So, what can I get you two today?”

“I’ll have a house salad with black coffee,” Dean responded, and Sam’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he kept his mouth firmly shut, choosing to stare at the meal choices that were on the menu on the counter. 

_A salad? Since when has Dean ever chosen a salad over a burger?_

Sam tried his best to school his features into a mask of neutrality as he ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and spiked fries for himself. 

“You two have a seat, and I’ll get that right up,” Liz said, and disappeared back into the kitchen area.

Dean led the way away from the counter and over to a table in the corner. Sam followed and sat down, unable to stop fidgeting with a loose thread on his t-shirt. 

“Sam, you’ve been acting kind of strange, man. Is everything alright?” Dean asked, worry dancing in his eyes. 

Sam sighed and ran his hands down the knees of his jeans. 

_So much for acting normal…_

“I’m fine, Dean, I promise,” he forced out, relieved when Liz came over with their drinks. 

“Black coffee for you, and a coke for you,” she said, setting the mug and glass down in front of them. “The food should be ready in about ten minutes or so,” she announced with a small smile, and excused herself so she could go check on the other customers.

Sam took a sip of his soda and let his gaze fall back on his brother. He could only pretend for so long. There was something wrong with Dean, and he only had four days to get to the bottom of it. 

*S*P*N*

Sam cracked an eye open, the sun filtering through the window and right into his field of vision. He groaned and rolled over, but knew he should probably be getting up, whether he wanted to or not. 

The house was quiet as he sat up and forced his legs over the side of the bed, a small headache grasping at the inside of his skull. 

They’d only had a few beers the night before, and though he was pleasantly buzzed by the time he’d turned in, he knew the amount of alcohol he’d consumed wasn’t hangover material by any means. 

He stood up, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he made his way out of the spare bedroom and down the hall towards the bathroom, in desperate need to relieve himself and brush his teeth. Once both of those things were accomplished, he decided a shower was in order, and since Dean wouldn’t be back from work until at least three or four at the latest, he took a long one, not getting out until the water started to turn warm. 

After the shower, he got dressed and went downstairs and into the kitchen. He hadn’t spent much time in it since he’d arrived, let alone the house itself. Dean had decided to take him sightseeing since he’d managed to get the weekend off, so they’d spent most of their time taking in the Great River Road and other touristy places Sam had asked to see.

Seeing that it was almost noon, he decided that breakfast would instead be lunch. Upon opening the fridge, he noted that everything in it was healthy. From salad mix to fruits and vegetables, there wasn’t a single item in it that made him believe his brother had actually stocked the thing himself. 

Everything in it was just so un-Dean like…

And his brother’s eating habits didn’t go unnoticed by him either. 

Wherever they ate the last few days, Dean had always ordered the house salad with the dressing on the side, not once even touching the stuff. 

Sam had let his comments stay to himself, but he wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take before it came tumbling out. 

Sure, everything _was_ healthy, and there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but Dean was just so _thin_ , and he acted like he didn’t even realize it. 

He closed the refrigerator door and checked the cupboards instead, finding mostly more of the same with one exception, Chef Boyardee Ravioli. Sam couldn’t help but chuckle at his find, not having consumed any of it since he was a kid. He wondered if Dean hadn’t bought it specifically for him, it being one of the only things Dean could make for him when they were younger, and Dean had been stuck making dinner. 

He shut the cupboard door and set the can down on the counter, rummaging through the rest of the cabinets in search of a bowl and spoon. Once he’d managed to find both, he popped the top on the can and poured its contents into the bowl, then placed it in the microwave and heated it up. 

He leaned against the counter until it was done, checking his texts and emails until the device dinged. The bowl was warm, but not too hot, so he carried it carefully into the living room and sat down on the couch. 

Glancing at the coffee table, he saw that the TV remote was nowhere to be found, so he set the bowl of still steaming ravioli on it and began his search for it. 

He began to dig in between the couch cushions, fingertips grasping smooth plastic when he finally found it. As he was pulling it out, something sharp scraped the side of his hand. 

“What the hell?” he murmured as he slid the cushion back. The end of a spiral notebook was wedged in between the inner wall of the couch and the cushion. 

Curiosity got the better of him and he removed it from its hiding spot, absentmindedly placing the cushion back into its place.

He sat down, momentarily ignoring his growling stomach and opened the plain, green covered spiral notebook, his brow lowering as he read through the first page.

_May 26th 2018_  
187  
Ham and cheese sandwich – 400 calories  
Chicken alfredo – 700 calories 

_May 27th 2018_  
187  
Bagel – 300 calories 

_May 28th 2018  
186_

_May 29th 2018_  
186  
Turkey sandwich – 450 calories 

_May 30th 2018_  
186  
Apple – 80 calories  
Spaghetti – 450 calories  
Garlic bread – 190 calories 

_May 31st 2018_  
185  
Orange – 80 calories  
Donut – 350 calories ??  
Taco salad – 400 calories 

_June 1st 2018  
185_

_June 2nd 2018  
185_

_June 3rd 2018  
185_

_June 4th 2018_  
184  
Apple – 80 calories  
9,015 steps 

_June 5th 2018_  
184  
Half Turkey sandwich – 220 calories  
Chicken salad – 200 calories  
10,012 steps 

_June 6th 2018_  
183  
Banana – 100 calories  
2 Tacos – 400 calories  
10,403 steps 

_June 7th 2018_  
183  
10,675 steps 

Suddenly, Sam realized what was going on, and couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck he could’ve been so blind. His hands shook as he continued to flip through the pages, eyes beginning to water when he came upon the last page.

_June 15th 2019_  
132.5  
Banana – 100 calories  
Carrots – 35 calories  
Salad – 30 calories  
16,152 steps 

_June 16th 2019_  
132.1  
16,565 steps 

_June 17th 2019_  
131.9  
Salad – 30 calories  
Strawberries – 45 calories  
16,892 steps 

_June 18th 2019_  
131.7  
Salad – 30 calories  
Apple – 80 calories  
Carrots – 35 calories  
15,983 steps 

_June 19th 2019_  
131.6  
16, 923 steps 

_June 20th 2019_  
131.3  
Salad – 200 calories ?  
14,356 steps 

_June 21st 2019_  
131.2  
Salad – 300 calories  
Light beer – 312 calories  
14,566 steps 

Sam wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. 

His hands were still trembling as he ran them through his hair. Disbelief, anger, and sadness flooded through his veins, and all he could ask himself was why? How? How in the hell did this happen to his brother?

Dean had never seemed to care about his weight before or how much he ate. 

Sam recalled all the times he’d poked fun at Dean due to the number of cheeseburgers he could put away, or how much pie he could go through on Thanksgiving. 

And now?

Now he was starving himself to death. 

_Fuck!_

Sam could feel the anger building, and he wasn’t quite sure why. He stood up, taking the notebook with him and began to pace back and forth, rereading each entry.

Page after page, the spiral into anorexia was clear and present, and Sam wondered what the hell could’ve caused it. What could’ve made his macho, champion cheeseburger eating and ‘would die before he ever touched a salad’ brother descend into self-starvation?

What happened in May of the previous year? What started it? 

Sam thought back, desperately trying to recall anything in their conversations from that time period, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that they really hadn’t communicated all that much. He was in the full swing of his relationship with Jess then and school was as hectic as ever. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he and Dean had barely even spoken then. 

But, surely, that couldn’t have been the reason for its beginning, could it?

He shook his head at himself, knowing better. Dean wouldn’t have started this because they weren’t speaking. It had to have been something else. 

But what? 

What could have made his brother want to do this to himself?

Sam stared at the last entry again, rereading the numbers over and over again.

_131 pounds? Jesus, Dean…._

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

The voice pulled Sam from his train of thought, eyes widening when he realized that his brother was now standing mere feet away from him, green eyes set aglow with anger and confusion.

“Dean, I – ”

“Seriously, Sam?” Dean’s voice faltered on his name, and Sam could finally see that his brother was trembling, and that shakiness had made its way into his voice as well. Dean yanked the notebook from Sam’s hands and headed upstairs, not speaking another word.

“Dean! Dammit, Dean, we have to talk!” Sam shouted, going up after him. He heard the bedroom door slam before he reached the top of the steps and rolled his eyes at the gesture. Hoping he had moved quickly enough, he hurriedly made his way down the hallway and turned the knob. Surprisingly, it wasn’t locked. Sam took a deep breath and let himself into the room.

Dean was seated on the bed with his head in his hands, the notebook perched precariously on his lap. Sam could see the small tremors that ran through his hands to his fingertips and could almost feel the anger that was seeping out and surrounding his brother like a shield.

“Get. Out,” the low warning came from between his brother’s lips, but Sam wasn’t about to budge. 

“Dean,” Sam began softly. “We need to talk.”

“Get. Out,” Dean repeated through clenched teeth, face still covered by his hands. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam stated, and the next thing he knew, Dean was on his feet, stabbing a finger in his chest and looking nothing short of a caged animal.

“You had no right to rummage through my things!” he shouted, face now inches away from Sam’s. 

Sam took one step back, trying desperately to keep his temperamental side at bay, but as the tension welled up, the harder it was becoming.

“It was an accident, Dean! Okay? I wasn’t going through your things!” Sam defended himself, but Dean wasn’t having it.

“Like hell, Sam! Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been looking at me! I don’t know why you and everyone else can’t fucking understand that I’m alright!” 

“Alright?” Sam scoffed. “Have you _looked_ into a mirror lately? I thought you were dying when I first saw you, Dean! I hardly even recognized you at first!”

“I don’t look that fucking different from the last time you saw me, and you know it!” Dean shot back, the veins in his forehead and neck more noticeable than ever through his pale skin. 

“Are you serious right now? Dean, you’ve lost almost sixty pounds, if not more! That’s not healthy! _You_ don’t look healthy! Don’t you get that?” Sam yelled back, hands gesturing toward Dean’s gaunt appearance. 

“Not healthy? This is the healthiest I’ve ever been!” he returned, tapping himself on the chest. “I wasn’t healthy before!”

Sam felt more words bubbling to the surface, desperately wanting to escape his lips, but in that moment, all the anger that was flooding through him fizzled and he suddenly felt like that tiny, two-year-old again and tears sprang to his eyes. His breath hitched as he took a step back and met Dean’s furious stare.

“How do you not see…that you’re killing yourself?” he finally managed to get out, voice wavering as the tears finally escaped the confines of his eyes and slid down his cheeks. “You’re going to die if you keep going down this road, and I’ll be all alone.”

At that, the expression on Dean’s face transformed from one of anger to surprise to finally, guilt. 

“Sam…” he began, but Sam shook his head. 

“Please listen to me. Please,” Sam begged, voice broken and worn. “Please stop, Dean. I don’t want you to die,” and a sob escaped his lips. It wasn’t long before he felt thin arms wrap around him, a cool hand cupping the back of his head gently as ever. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy,” Dean murmured, and Sam wanted it to be true, he really did, but the state of Dean’s body told another story. All he felt were bones when he hugged his brother back, and it only made him sob even harder. Dean was never going to listen to him, he just knew it. 

“Please promise me, Dean. Promise me that you’ll get some help. I’ll even quit school and –” 

“No,” Dean interjected firmly. “You’re not quitting school, alright? Everything’s going to be alright.” 

Sam sniffled and shook his head, taking a step back out of his brother’s embrace. Fresh tears threatened to cascade down his already reddened cheeks. “Everything’s not going to be alright if you don’t get help. There’s nothing wrong with asking for it,” Sam stated, voice wavering in and out. “You’re not weak for getting help, you know that, right?”

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, Sam not missing the way he tugged at the ends of it tightly before releasing it. “It’s not…that easy.”

“Yes, it is that easy, Dean. I’ll take some time off and help you. You just have to admit that you have a problem. There are treatments out there than can help you. That can make you better.” 

“Sammy…” Dean started, but Sam shook his head at him again.

“Why don’t you want to stop? Huh?” The anger was starting to come back even though fresh tears were rolling down his cheeks. “You look like a walking skeleton, Dean! How can you not see that? I mean, what do you think Castiel is going to do when he comes back? Don’t you think he’s going to be worried about losing you too?”

At the mention of his husband’s name, an indescribable expression overtook Dean’s face. He looked almost lost for a moment, as though it were taking him longer to understand Sam’s words before realization struck him and an odd and very minute smile struck up the corners of his lips before disappearing just as quickly as it had come. 

_Does he think Cas would be happy that he looks like this?_

Sam’s brow lowered at that thought. The more he thought about it, the stranger everything began to seem. Castiel hadn’t been deployed until January, and all this had started at least six months beforehand. Which meant that Castiel would’ve noticed his brother’s weight loss and almost non-existent eating habits. And yet, he continued with his deployment anyway. 

The words left Sam’s lips before he’d realized he’d even said them.

“Does Castiel know about this?”

Utter shock lit up Dean’s eyes before he quickly shook his head and replied, “What? No, of course he doesn’t! Why would you even ask that?”

“Dean, what the hell is going on? Did he ask you to do this?” Sam could feel his anger building once more. 

“What the fuck, Sam? No, he didn’t ask me to do this,” Dean stated, forming a defensive stance with his hands on his hips. 

“Then what did?” Sam countered, folding his arms across his chest. 

Dean appeared frustrated, and Sam could tell that he was formulating some lie to spin. 

“I was overweight and got sick of looking the way that I did,” he finally admitted, though Sam could see that it was bullshit clear as day.

“Dean, you and I both know that you’ve never cared what you put in your body up until May of last year, according to your notebook. Don’t lie to me. What happened?” 

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I just _told_ you. Not all of us can look like you without even trying,” he muttered, and it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. He knew what Dean was doing, and he wasn’t falling for it.

“What happened, Dean? Huh?” Sam asked, closing the distance between them and getting right in his brother’s face. His years of schooling combined with his natural ability to not leave someone alone until they told him the truth was out in full force. “Tell me!” he shouted, and something in Dean’s expression gave, if only for a second. Sam leaned in impossibly close, eyes agleam with anger. “Tell me, Dean!”

Dean’s breath hitched and Sam saw the cords in his neck pull tight. There was something akin to fear in his eyes now, and Sam hated pushing him this far, but he needed to know what was going on. What was the catalyst that made Dean choose to do this to himself?

“Answer me, dammit!” Sam shouted and that time Dean jumped at the command, eyes owlish and wide behind his glasses. “Was this Castiel’s idea? Was it?”

A resounding and frustrated, “Yes, fuck!” came pouring from his brother’s lips, and Sam stood there, momentarily dumbfounded by the sudden admission. 

There were tears in Dean’s eyes now, the substance making them impossibly bright, like a light bulb right before it was about to burn out. “I-I was sick, and hadn’t eaten anything in days, and had lost a little weight.” Dean turned his gaze to the floor, unable to look Sam in the eye any longer. “He came home, f-from training, and…he liked it.” His voice was so soft, Sam had to strain to hear it. “He-he asked if I…if I wouldn’t mind losing a little more, and I said okay, that I would do it.” He swallowed thickly as he finally managed to look back up at Sam, but tears were now falling freely down his sunken cheeks. “And once I started, I haven’t been able to stop.” His voice broke on the last word, and he immediately bowed his head and scrubbed a hand roughly down his cheeks. His shoulders were hunched in defeat. 

All the fight Sam had been feeling left him once he saw the broken shell of a man his brother had become. It didn’t stop the underlying anger he had for Castiel though. 

He was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd add that each chapter is titled after songs.
> 
> Chapter 1 : Bass Shivering Bass - Venus  
> Chapter 2 : The Looking Glass - Christian Burns/All Hail the Silence  
> Chapter 3 : We Went for a Ride - Fefe Dobson  
> Chapter 4 : Can't Love Me - (featuring Tyler Blackburn) Novi  
> Chapter 5 : Dust - Hælos  
> Chapter 6 : Redbone - Childish Gambino  
> Chapter 7 : Night Moves - Bob Seger  
> Chapter 8 : Afterglow - INXS  
> Chapter 9 : She Wants To Know - Half Moon Run  
> Chapter 10 : Crystalised - The XX  
> Chapter 11 : Colony - Now, Now
> 
> Thank you all once again for the lovely comments and kudos! They truly are appreciated! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Any constructive criticism is welcome, and thank you to anyone that reads this! :)


End file.
